


Searching for the Perfect Husband

by ruthy4vrsmoaked



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Humor, Romance, Speed Dating, marriage law
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-07-01 23:24:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 62,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15784272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruthy4vrsmoaked/pseuds/ruthy4vrsmoaked
Summary: What have the Marriage Law, speed dates, beauty pageants and job-shadowing house elves in common? Dramione. Hermione negotiates the freedom to choose her own partner through a series of challenges. May the odds be with her, or with him. Mature for later chapters.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had a crazy idea, again, and my Magzillasaurus told me, do it. She's my sidekick in the clean up of my grammatical and other mistakes. Plus the girl who says, I'm curious for the next chapter. I hope you like it!
> 
> ps.: I love reviews, suggestions, heart confessions...

##  Chapter One

 

The arm flew straight in the air, fingers tense and upright, “Minister Shacklebolt, a question.”

 

Snorts and chuckles arose within the amply sized room where all people had gathered upon invitation; the Ministry had lured everyone in, under the pretence of an urgent matter concerning the majority of the Wizardry population. The people who recognised the voice, murmured  _ there she goes again _ , rolling their eyes at her antics.

 

“Yes, Miss Granger?”

 

“If I got this right, you’re forcing us into marriage?”

 

“Yes, Miss Granger, we don't see another way out.” A condescending answer with its matching head inclination. Kingsley readied himself for a lecture.

 

“Because you failed to protect the community, Minister?”

 

“Unfortunately, I must agree with your assessment.”

 

“So, we the youngsters are paying again for your mistakes?”

 

“Can you come to your point, Miss Granger.”

 

“I’ll get there in a second, Minister. I don’t want to overlook any detail.”

 

Especially in the Slytherin corner, you could see the headshakes and the pinching of noses, plus hear the snickers. They all listened to the same speech,  _ leave it up to the swot to make it extra clear _ was a general thought. As if they could escape their fate. Hermione noticed their expressions but was convinced they would support her, once her point of view became clear.

 

“You force us to get married and shag like bunnies until we produce a considerable amount of heirs to restore Wizarding society.” Now the eye-rolls were replaced by nodding. She made a valuable point.

 

“I don’t see the point for such a vulgar expression but we do indeed want you to contribute to the restoration of the wizarding community by increasing its numbers.”

 

“And to this end, you’ll appoint each of us our so-called ‘perfect match’.”

 

“Miss Granger, experienced wizards and witches are developing a complex process which will determine your perfect match, yes. We trust the magic to find the ideal partner.”

 

“What will you use to this end, Minister? A crystal ball you purchased at the nearest Ikea? Or will you employ the use of tea leaves you can buy by weight at the Asda around the corner? Some old bats with their overused wands?”

 

Pansy shooed the boys, “Shut up, the swot has got a point. Listen.”

 

“Miss Granger, please. It’s was not an easy decision for us either.”

 

“I’m sorry, but I don’t give a sickle about your feelings when you came up to this barbaric conclusion. I fought a war against prejudice, in return, you’re forcing me to become a baby machine and you don’t even give me the freedom to choose my own life partner.”

 

Not one soul in that area laughed anymore about her lecturing, her point of view was undeniable and now it was foremost curiosity that prevailed, the wish to know how the Minister would get away under her scrutinizing words.

 

“As I said before, I trust the magic.”

 

“Well, Minister Shacklebolt, with all due respect. I don’t.”

 

“It’s the law, Miss Granger. Abide or leave our world.”

 

“I want to have the freedom of choice.” A unanimous muttering rose in the air. “I’ll play by the rules with a partner that I chose, not one that is forced upon me.”

 

‘ _ So do I’ _ floated in the air, all around the room. 

 

“But we want results within the year, if it were that easy to find a husband, I believe you would have a ring around your finger by now, Miss Granger.”

 

His assessment only enraged her more and Hermione’s jaw clenched. “I wasn’t looking for one.”

 

“Why don’t you let us do our job then?” Kingsley gave her a patronising glance.

 

Pansy spoke up, “Give us a period of time to find one, and if we fail, we’ll let you do your job.” The two witches shared a look.

 

“Besides, if we all give birth at the same time, I’m sure Headmistress McGonagall will have trouble accommodating so many first years inside the castle. The House’s dorms do have limits.” Hermione lost count of her personal score, to make it easy she gave it a five for her one for Kingsley, though she was surprised at the unexpected support.

 

“The Golden Princess has a new valid point, Minister.”  _ When women combine forces…  _ Hermione rolled her eyes at the Silver Princess before giving her a half smile.

 

“Do you have something in mind, Miss Granger? Miss Parkinson?”

 

“I suggest to throw preconceptions overboard and start from a blank slate. Muggles…” she paused to force a silence after the new series of smirks and comments, “Muggles use a series of speed dates to find a kindred spirit. This way, no prejudice will cloud their judgement. A fair start.” Hermione looked at Pansy for confirmation. “If you could be so kind, allow me, Miss Parkinson and a few others come up with extra activities to this end.”

 

“I agree completely, Miss Granger.” Never had Pansy used such a friendly tone towards the swot, but there was always a first.

 

Blaise added his two knuts, “There must be some wizards during those meetings, women alone can’t be trusted. I offer myself up.”

 

“If he goes, I go.” Ron came to Hermione’s side. 

 

It became slightly heated, but Kingsley used his authority to calm the crowd down. “Calm down! Miss Granger, Miss Parkinson, please select a small team to discuss this suggestion of yours and get everything ready. I give you a time limitation of three months. If after this period any wizarding folk remain single, they will be forced to follow our protocol.”

 

“Of course, Minister. And if any wizard or witch doesn’t want to try our way, they are free to ask your aid already. I’m not forcing anyone to support me.” It was her turn to look condescending, and the Ministry knew it.

 

-oOo-

 

“Granger, a word.” Pansy sought her out from amongst the departing mass.

 

“Never thought I would say this, but here it goes: I’m grateful that you had my back. Those old bats are insane.” Her rage still boiled, but Hermione felt content with the outcome. At least she had something to say in the matter.

 

“At first I thought you were daft, woman; but I have got to give you, your points are valid.” Pansy checked her nails once again. “You and Me, Blaise and your Weasley, we need some badgers and eagles to balance, to keep it fair. I don’t want to be accused of partiality, my bad reputation precedes me already.”

 

“Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott?” Hermione thought immediately of these two names.

 

Pansy suggested quickly, “That Patil sister and the cute guy, what’s his name again Michael? Michael Corner?”

 

“I’ll owl and invite them. Where? Three months my arse. What do they think we are? Robots?”

 

“What are those, girl? Magical creatures I don't know about??” Pansy rolled a tress of hair around her fingers thinking of a location, “One of the rooms above the Leaky Cauldron?”

 

“Perfect. Tomorrow at nine o’clock?”

 

“Not too early, girl, I need my beauty sleep. Make it ten.”

 

“Never heard of: you snooze, you lose?”

 

“This pretty face, Granger, needs enough rest. Ten o’clock, witch. See you then.” She gave Hermione a last cheeky grin before joining the awaiting group of Slytherins.

 

-oOo-

 

“What about me and Harry?” Ginny had one urgent question.

 

“We have three months to find our partner. In my opinion, you found yours already, unless you want to try this speed dating to see if Harry is your true soulmate.”

 

“What if it turns out to be Goyle? Or Harry with Milicent?”

 

“Merlin’s saggy tit, don’t jinx it. We’re not partaking.”

 

“Yes we are, it’s a test for us, Harry.”

 

“I thought you just said you are against it, Ginny.”

 

“I’ve changed my mind, it’s a test for both of us, would we choose each other all over again? I’m up to a challenge.”

 

“Women.” Harry shook his head.

 

Ginny batted her eyelashes, smiling, “You love me and we are made for each other.”

 

Ron and Hermione exchanged a grin, their path wasn’t what they hoped it to be, but their friendship just solidified even more after the break-up, becoming more overprotective of each other. The war ended a year and a half ago and during this time, he focused more on healing and being there for his family after the loss of Fred; dating was the least of his concerns. This speed dating didn’t sound so odd, “Hey, ‘Mione, could we add a cooking test to this thing we're doing?”

 

“Are you thinking with your stomach again, Ron?”

 

“It’s vital to know if your future wife knows how to handle themselves in a kitchen.” He shrugged matter-of-factly.

 

“You want her to be your mother's clone?”

 

“Hermione, you have to agree, my mother's kitchen it smells heavenly. Why can’t I wish it for myself?”

 

“Ron, what if the woman of your dreams can’t cook?” She swirled her glass of butterbeer while pursing her lips. 

 

“I’ll send her to my mum’s for a crash course.” Ron grinned and Hermione slammed her palm against her forehead, shaking her head.

  
  


“Pans, my darling, we need to make sure we have a beauty pageant. My future wife has to be easy on the eyes.”

 

“Tits and arse prevail against feelings and understanding?” Daphne scowled. 

 

Draco shrugged, “I don’t see the issue, Daphne. Imagine, you have an amazing connection with a wizard until you see him and think,  _ oh no, he’s ugly _ .”

 

Pansy decided, “Beauty pageant for both sides. Draco, don’t give me that face, you just said it, what if my soul mate turns out to be a foul teethed, greasy haired Filtch?”

 

“Pans, but the pageant thing must come after Granger’s speed dating. Heart and soul are more important than tits, arse and abs.” 

 

“Daph, you’re a hundred percent right.” The women high-fived.

 

The men didn’t agree and continued discussing it amongst themselves, “Looks are more important than a brain. You can always pretend you listen to a witch.” Draco mocked Pansy’s expression behind her back.

 

She gave him a dirty look, but it didn’t stop Blaise from adding to the pile, “Maybe we should add a witch test ride.”

 

“Oh, no, don’t you even think about it, wanker.”

 

“Talent in bed and in a blow job are also uttermost vital.” The other wizards clapped on Blaise’s shoulder after his statement, congratulating him for such a smart comment.

 

The women gave him a dead look, “If that’s the case, then we should also judge a mans dick according to his talent at satisfying a woman. And believe me,  _ Blaise _ , that’s not for everyone.”

 

“Pans, it was a one-time thing, I wasn’t in full capacity.”

 

“Still, your performance was barely an A, more of a P.”

 

Daphne whispering suggested, “Shouldn't you take Theo instead of Blaise? On the other hand, it could be fun to see Granger hex his arse.” Pansy answered with a wicked chuckle.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Magzilla helped me, once again! No Draco in this chapter, rules are being set - as it were, levelling the playing field. But worry not this is the silence before the storm, lol.

**Chapter Two**

It was a quarter to ten, and Hermione was already set with fresh parchment, a page or two filled with questions and suggestions, quill and ink waiting impatiently for the whole team to arrive.

Ron, for his part, paced around whistling, checking out the view from the window; the masses of wizards and witches minding their business, hurrying to arrive at their destination. This whole meeting didn't faze him at all, but he insisted in it to so Hermione wouldn't be outdone by the snakes.

A person at a time, the invited ones arrived, Pansy last, fashionably late for the most dramatic entry. As usual.

"Now we are complete." A sarcastic stab towards the witch, "We can finish what we came to do."

"Granger, can we move on without the stings, please? I come in peace but I have a thing with being punctual." Pansy waved her off.

"Ladies, let's get along." Ron calmed the mood, after setting the drinks before everyone's noses, with Michael's help.

Hermione shoved a rebel curl behind her ear, "I want to start with my original suggestion, the speed dating. I do realise that if we see each other the main idea of no preconceptions will be useless."

"We can do it blindfolded?"

"Weasley, good suggestion, but a rather barbaric tactic." Blaise sipped his firewhiskey.

Hannah added, "We have to make sure we don't see each other during those dates."

Pansy inclined her head, "Women can see each other, it will be too weird otherwise, but we can't see the men." China clanged when she set her cup back on its saucer. "Can you raise some type of divider, Granger?"

"Piece of cake, Parkinson. Anyone against dividing the tables?"

"Tables?"

"Muggle concept of speed dating is: every five-ten minutes men shift from table to table, sit down and the couple asks each other questions. In the end, both parties note down if they want to see each other again. If it's so for both ends than further information is given. Otherwise, it's one-time only."

Padma remarked, "Maybe we should organise two of these speed dates to confirm our first assessment?"

Hermione remarked, "But not if there are wizards that we absolutely don't want to see again."

"The belly-feel is important, but sometimes the second time readjusts your opinion." Ernie pondered, "I think you shouldn't exclude anyone during these questioning phases."

This was a unanimous decision, Hermione confirmed, "Two rounds of blind speed dates, after the second do we reveal each other's identity?"

"No, we could combine some extras before that," Hannah proposed. "Those questions are the first hurdle, maybe add a few things to mix and only in the last phase reveal each other's identity."

Ron grinned, rubbing his tummy, "A cooking test?"

Blaise submitted, winking, "A sex test?"

Pansy added, "A beauty pageant contest."

Padma dreamed, "Yes, men in their underwear."

Hermione wrote it all down, frowning at Blaise's submission, but grinning at all the others. But before she could add her two knuts, Hannah threw her idea in, "Job-shadow a house elf."

Men huffed, the women broke into a laugh. "Good one."

"Not in a million years."

"No sex test." Hermione decided, throwing that one out. "That's for the couple to decide if they want to test their talents in bed. But I will not include such a category as part of speed dating."

Again agreement between the ladies, the men less optimistic but the logic was irrefutable. Blaise mumbled, "It was worth a try."

"Do we do all this blindly?"

"It can't work with dividers, though…" Ernie mentioned the first problem.

"No, but…" Hermione thought, frowning. As she saw the solution, Pansy beat her at it.

"Let us say that during the questions, we can't see the wizard, but during all the rest we can…"

Hermione finished, "But not his number."

"Number?" All eyes turned to the brunette. "Well, if we can't use names, duh… then we need to use numbers to identify our mystery man."

"Gryffindor wins," Blaise announced, and Ron cashed in.

"Always, snake." Fraternising could happen over details too…

"So we have the questions round - two of them - what then after?"

"The cooking!"

"The job-shadow!"

"Showing off the goodies!"

"I'll write it down according to this sequence." Hermione smirked, "First a taste of the men's cooking talents…"

"And women's too, Granger."

"Yes, Blaise, I agree, witches should know how to cook too… then we add doing the tasks of a house elf - we must include a nappy change in there…"

Pansy doubted, "Why?"

"For in case, your elf is inaccessible. The father should be able to perform such a simple task as well, right?"

"Hermione, witches too, sweetheart."

"Oh, damn, my nails will get dirty."

"Pansy... imagine it's your own son."

"Doesn't change a thing, Granger." The idea nauseated her already, but she conceded.

"As for last, a beauty pageant with its final moment, the revelation of each others identity."

"Perfect!" No one opposed.

"And very last, a sex test." Blaise tried again.

"Your mind is a one-way street, I guess." Except for Pansy, who was used to his antics, the remaining girls side-eyed the Slytherin.

"What if we really don't agree with the end result?" Padma spoke in a little voice.

"Wait, how do we know the winner?" Michael rubbed his chin.

Hermione nearly lectured, "No one will be forced to accept the outcome, you're still free to ask the Ministry for help. And Michael, the winner will be the number you wrote down the most, obviously not?"

"Hmmm. Who assigns the numbers?"

"The girls here? do the witches, you the men, will do the wizards," Pansy stated in a boring voice.

Padma advised, "Hermione, the names should be registered somewhere so no one can mess with their number."

"Like the list for the DA?" The Golden Princess elaborated to clear the confusion, "All the members for the Dumbledore's Army were registered and I added a hex to ensure loyalty. Remember Edgecombe?"

"Ahhhh. Do such a list without the hex."

Pansy sipped her tea, "Wait, Abbott, not a hex to hurt but the list must force the number."

"The list will ensure no cheating is possible. Do we vote?" Hermione inquired.

"Nope. We all agree." Blaise finished the deal.

Hermione asked the last question, "How do we make this public? When do we start and where?"

They ended with agreeing to make it known through the Houses and by hanging an announcement on the public boards at the Ministry. Enrolment was required.

The whole circus was to start next week Saturday, location for the first encounter: The Leaky Cauldron.

Hermione thought, " _May the odds be with me_."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let the game begin. Beta'ed by my adorable Magzillasaurus.

**Chapter Three**

The whole floor of the Leaky Cauldron wasn't big enough to accommodate the number of registered participants. Not only the majority of Hogwarts alumni class of '98 but from a few years before the war, and a surprising group of older wizards that fell within the age range of the law. So, instead of the popular pub, the whole event was moved into a large room at the Ministry, now adjusted with similar tables and its dividing curtains. The catering was in hands of a house elf team; a concession from Hermione, after negotiating payment for the elves.

Seeing some witches over the forty enter the room, Pansy and Hermione gathered a quick meeting, "Our guys will freak out if they are paired with an old bat." The Slytherin princess sounded panicky.

"I see your point, not that you should call those women old." Blaise and Ron's faces looked as if they reached the same conclusion.

The small admin group, complete by now when the others approached, "Granger, charm this thing decently so no wrinkled old bat arrives at my table."

"I hate to say it, but Blaise is right, Hermione." Ron nearly begged her. "Can't we send them to a separate room? Have a space for those close to the expiry date?"

Blaise punched Ron in the arm, "Good idea, Weasley!"

The girls exchanged a glance, Padma filling in, "I guess I wouldn't like to waste time on a grandpa myself, Hermione."

"Okay, then where and how do we split them? I can't say aloud: all wrinkled ones in the corner!" Hermione remarked watching the crowd grow. She saw a flash of blond hair appear and she frowned. "Oh Merlin, he's here too…"

"Who?" Pansy looked over her shoulder and caught on quickly, "What did you expect? Draco is in the same position just as you." She huffed, "Here's the deal: he's my friend, one of my best ones. He suffered more than you think. Hurt him and this cease-fire between you and me ends immediately. No prejudices, remember? Your own words, swot."

"I don't like him a bit,  _Barbie_."

"Who's that bint?" The sting missed its target, clearly, "I'm not asking you to fall at his feet right this minute either, Granger. I'm putting up with your Ron, give me the same courtesy regarding Draco."

"Fine." Hand dismissing it, to end the dispute, "How do we split the older from the newer generation? Draw the line at the thirties?"

A unanimous nod followed, Michael spelt it out, "From seventeen till thirty to the left, over thirty-one to the right?"

"Unless you don't find your taste inside your group at first?" Hannah remarked, "What if a witch in her thirties wants to test the waters in the older group?"

"Let her move in the second round." Blaise shrugged, "You gotta set the line somewhere. I'm eager to begin."

"With your test-ride?"

"That too, Macmillan."

"Hermione, one last thing. Which kinda questions should I ask? I have no idea." Ron rubbed his scruff.

She shoved him a copy of her own little notes, "I've set up a series for myself, here use mine."  _Just like in the old days…_

Blaise snatched the parchment from her hands, "Let me see this...hmm...makes sense...smart question...didn't think to ask that...Granger, I want a copy too."

Pansy checked it quickly, "Woman, would you mind giving me one too?"

"Pans, just add one extra question: Top or bottom."

"Why would I do that, Blaise?"

"Is he dominant or a submissive? Or a switch? It's important to know if your partner knows his way around in bed, it's the first sign."

"You and your one track mind!" Pansy shoved him off her, "Granger, is it too much work to copy this a few times? I bet there are folks in here that could use a nudge, not only your Weasley."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but set to work, making a pile of copies for whomever wanted them. Pansy gave her a radiant smile, "Blaise's question might be important, add it to your personal list, girl."

"Dominant in bed? Not a priority."

"Knowledge in bed is more important than their preferences. We women have needs too, witch."

"So, discovering the seductive arts with your partner is not good enough?"

"Believe me, one that already knows how to press the buttons is so much better than one you have to show the instruction manual to." Slytherin grin. "Let's start, everyone looks as they are about to take off. Jump on that platform and lecture the masses, Granger."

"I'm not out there alone, you all will come with me."

Using the magnifying spell, her voice sounded through the room effortlessly, "Hello! Thank you for being so plentifully present. My team and I," gesturing behind her, "Welcome you at the first of a few sessions, hoping, in the end, to help you find your other half." She cleared her throat, "We'll be dividing you into two groups, all of you between seventeen and thirty: you'll use the left side of this area, from thirty on…"

Blaise whispered to Ron, "Including all wrinkled about to expire females."

Pansy's finger probed in his side, "And males. Shut your mouth, sweetie, before she hexes your lips."

The brunette shot them an ugly look, "...go to the right. For those who wish for some guidance, there's a list with examples of questions you can use. Now, my friends and I will assign each wizard a number which will remain hidden until the very last challenge. The wizards will do this behind the curtain, witches please, remain on this side, we will be with you shortly."

While she spoke people moved into their appropriate places, divided according to age group and gender. "We'll magically link your name to your number, so cheating will be impossible. If you attempt to do so, you'll be aware of the consequences."

Pansy noticed a certain pleasure in Hermione's gaze. The Slytherin witch heard the brunette explain further, "The women will sit on this side of the table, dividers and automatically enhanced muffliatos between each occupant to ensure privacy. Each session takes ten minutes, ask your questions, give honest answers and at the end, write down the number of your partner plus if you want to see him again or not."

Blaise interrupted, "Easily said: if you like him, check it otherwise cross his number off. Fellows, got it? Oh, and what she almost forgot. Don't share your identity before the end, we want you to choose your partner based on your gut feelings." He winked at Hermione, "Not let prejudices or preferences cloud your judgement. Granger, can we start with those lists?"

"Of course, Zabini. Will you do the honours for your  _fellows?_ "

* * *

The next half hour was spent assigning each participant his ID number. Blaise made sure he had the easy job, "My mate Ron here and I will identify the wizard. You and Ernie write it down." Ernie and Michael had difficulty keeping up with the registering of names, Ron and Blaise kept a hard pace.

Blaise perused the parchment, "Macmillan, number sixty-nine is mine. If you see it appear, add my name to it."

"What's special about that number?"

"Sixty-nine? Boy, I'm not giving you those types of lessons, mate. Find the meaning for yourself or ask Granger for a practical demonstration." He shared a look with Ron to see his reaction, but the ginger-head gave him a confused look.

"I might do that." Ernie didn't get the hidden hint.

"Please, tell me afterwards," snort, "How it went."

Ron announced, "Harry you're number fifty-five."

Harry inquired, "And you?" Ron signed him for later.

"My mate, Draco, you're number eighty-four." Blaise patted the blond, jerking the man forward. He got rewarded with an annoyed look.

"Funny, Blaise. And thanks for getting rid of the old bats, for a while I feared being paired with a rag almost as old as my mother."

"Imagine your mother's face!" Blaise broke into a laughter, just like Ron, who heard it all. "Mum, meet my fiance and yes, she's only two years younger than you."

"Zabini, you're full of shite, bro. It will cost you a firewhiskey tonight."

"Good thought, let us gather tonight at the Leaky and discuss our first day." Blaise elbowed Ron, "Weasley, you coming?"

"Since when are we chums?"

"New leaf man. New leaf. Men have to stick together, and we might be able to catch up on a few numbers so we can rule out some ugly bint."

Harry warned them, "If Hermione finds out… remember Edgecombe?"

"Have no idea who you're talking about." Blaise looked confused, though Draco had more a cautious face, "But, I guess I shouldn't neglect your advice. Ok, instead, we can vent our frustrations."

"I don't know, Zabini, too much bad blood."

"Later, Weasley. We'll discuss it later. NEXT!"

* * *

"How many more Granger?"

"We are almost done."

"This is boring. NEXT!"

"Daphne, you're number eight." Hanny spoke, looked up and smiled, "Hi, Luna, for you, I have twenty-nine." Scribbling quickly on the list.

"Granger, do you have a number already?"

"We're last, Pansy. Only fifteen witches left before our turn."

"Girls, why don't we get a butterbeer after this? What do you say, at the Leaky, all the women together?"

Luna jumped in, "Yes, all of us, Ginny, Daphne. Share our thoughts and nargle attacks."

Hermione gestured Padma to move on, "Why not? NEXT!"

* * *

Ron wrote his number on the back of his parchment, sixty-six. Blaise gloated, "I'm sixty-nine, mate. Just like I wanted."

"What's the deal with that digit, man?"

"Weaz, sixty-nine. Do a sixty-nine with a woman. Ring a bell?"

"Nope." Ron wondered if Blaise needed a vial for disillusions.

"Mate, didn't you ever go down on Granger while she sucked your dick? At the same time?"

Ron answered quite blankly, "Huh, no. Never did it to Hermione. Besides, I'm not sharing sex-secrets."

"Wait a minute, don't tell me you never satisfied the swot properly, licking her quim?"

"Zabini, stop it. No, we didn't do such things." Ron was happy that no one was paying attention.

"She never sucked your whistle? Is she such a prude?"

Hermione's voice sounded around the room, "Let us begin."

Ron answered quickly before choosing randomly a seat. "Don't call Hermione prude, she did suck my  _whistle_. And she's pretty good at it if you want to know. One word to her about this, and you'll regret it."

"Than you're a tosser, you return the favour to your girl." Blaise shook his head, "Take this from me, I'm a pro. They'll thank you so much more for it." He chose his own place.

* * *

"Ginny, thank god, you're the last! Your number is forty-nine. Pansy, you're twenty-three, and my number is...thirty-seven."

"Oh, pity, no sixty-nine for us."

"Parkinson, I don't do sixty-nines, you sound just like Blaise."

"Girl, you don't know what you're missing."

"Pans…" She gestured a zip over her mouth. Hermione maximised her voice again, "Let us begin."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Smirks while giving you a chapter that made me laugh .*
> 
> Thankful for the beta work of my Magzillasaurus.

 

**Chapter Four**

* **Hermione** *

The scrapping of chairs against the floor was the only sound in the room, anticipation floating in the air. Hermione took out her notepad, quill and ink, getting her original copy with questions ready and breathed in deeply.

"Hello?"

"Hi." The voice was slightly distorted. "I'm number ten."

"Nice to meet you, Ten. I'm number thirty-seven." She scribbled, ' _Ten:'_  "What is the last book you read, Ten?"

"You have a lovely voice." Hermione's quill noted, ' _Fake type, the voice is indescribable through the curtain.'_  "Sweetie, I don't read books. See, darling. I'm handsome and rich so for entertainment, I can take you wherever you wish to go, no matter the expense." She held her fingers against the forehead, thinking,  _Great the first is a dumbarse._

From the other side, the next question came, "Darling, which kind of lingerie do you like to wear?"

Hermione's quill had extra work, she crossed his number pretty hard so she couldn't miss. "Plain white cotton. Comfort is most important."  _Puh, take that. Could it be Blaise?_

* **Blaise** *

"Hi…" A timid female voice reached his side of the divider.

"Hello love, I'm number sixty-nine."

"Hello, Mr. Sixty-nine. I'm number fifty-one." He had to strain to hear, it was just like a mouse whispering.

"My mother always told me to let ladies go first. What's your first question?"

"Do you like to stroll down the park, hand-in-hand?"

Blaise wrote down: 'wall-flower', "Love, I prefer my arm around your shoulders." The girl giggled, "Now my turn. Do you prefer top or bottom?"

He heard a gasp, "Excuse me? I don't understand your question."

"Love, do you prefer to be on top of a wizard or to be under him?"

"How dare you ask this?" The witch was offended and decided to remain silent. Blaise crossed off her number adding, ' _Prude virgin._ ' He huffed.

* **Draco** *

He wasted no time, "I'm eighty-four, who are you?"

"You have quite a lot of guts to start like that. Mommy-issues?"

"What, woman? I'm just breaking the ice."

"Well, if you are looking for  _the one_ , be more gentle in your tone and try to be honest."

"Are you Granger?"

"Have you lost your mind? I'm so much better than a mudblood."

"What's your number, witch?"

"Twenty-four."

"Miss Twenty-four. That witch saved our lives, so you better speak about her with respect. Write my number down on the no-list, I'll do the same with yours. I believe we're no match." Next to her number, he wrote, ' _bint'._

"With pleasure."

* **Hermione** *

"Hello, I'm number thirty-seven."

"Pleasure, I'm fifty-five."

"Fifty-five, what is the book you read last?"

"I don't read books, my best friend euh...Mi, devours them for breakfast, haha."

 _Mi_? "Harry is that you?"

"Hermione? Oh, cool. How was your first?"

"A sex-maniac, a total dumbarse." Harry laughed heartily, "And yours?"

"Nice but bland. I'm sure it wasn't Ginny. Hey, did you know Blaise invited us to have drinks with his gang? To vent?"

"Pansy asked us out for a similar thing."

"Us and Malfoy? Drinks? Blaise called it a new leaf."

"Harry, we can see where it leads. We did testify on his behalf, maybe we should turn over a new leaf. Damn, the bell. Good luck with the next!"

"Love you, Hermione!"

"Love you too, Harry."

* **Pansy** *

"Who are you? I'm twenty-three."

"Sixty-six. How would a friend describe you?"

"No ladies first, then? Euh...A friend describes me? A girlfriend or a boyfriend?"

"Balls, it's not on the list...do a girl."

"My friends describe me as a fashionista, determined and trustworthy."

"Oh." He wrote,  _dress up doll._

"It's my turn. Are you a morning person or a night person?"

"Ah, question number one! I'm not an early bird, I like to stay under the covers for five more minutes." He could hear the scribble on the other side, "And you?"

"Don't wake me too early, I prefer to party with friends."

"Favorite food?" He didn't waste time on the next question, yet, he quite enjoyed her frankness.

"Roast beef with gravy and pudding. Yours?"

"Anything edible, preferably home-made." Ron wrote down: ' _likes good food'._

"Oh. I can't cook." Pansy penned: 'easily pleased'.

"My mother can teach you." One scrawled, ' _No kitchen princess',_ the other, ' _Mummy's boy_ '.

In the end, both numbers remained in the yes column. She liked how he spoke, there was a goofy element in his voice; he had a good feeling about her, only her cooking skills needed some adjustments.

* **Theo** *

A singsong voice came through the other side, "Hello, pretty wizard, I'm number twenty-nine."

"A pleasure, twenty-nine. I'm seventy-two."

"What do you think about magical creatures, Seventy-two?"

 _Could it be Luna?_  "Depends on the creature. Pigmy's are fluffy, hippogriffs are scary."

"Your turn to ask a question, Seventy-two."

"Twenty-nine, bubble bath or shower?"

"I definitely prefer a shower, feels like rain pouring down on me. For you as well?" Theo wrote,  _want to see again._

* **Ginny** *

"Greetings, earthling. Number forty-nine behind the curtain."

"I'm number twenty, but I don't know who that earthling is."

"My best friend and my boyf… my other best friend showed me mooviies on the tellies, and one of its characters said it. Oh, well, forget what I said. Women and Quidditch, yes or no?"

"No. This is no sport for weak women." Ginny rolled her eyes, scrapping the number off her list,  _moron._  "My turn, on a scale of one to America, how free are you tonight for a drink?"

"On a scale of one to Azkaban, how long do you think it takes me to hex you into oblivion?"

"Witch, there's no need to be violent."

Ginny drummed with her fingers to contain her rage, she had already drilled a hole on the place where the quill had rubbed the parchment.  _NEXT!_ She thought.

* **Draco** *

"Hello, I'm number eighty-four. Who are you?" It was his fourth table of the day, by now two were very weak yes's and a very determined no, making him wonder if Granger's plan was viable at all.

"Welcome eighty-four. I'm thirty-seven, do you mind if I go first?"

 _She sounds polite, the first today,_ "No, be my guest. My mother taught me good manners." A chuckle.

"What is the last book you read?"

He was caught by surprise, "Oh Salazar's euh, let me think, it's called Pride and Prejudice by Jane-"

"Jane Austin, oh I love it. Why are you reading that?"

 _Be genuine, said the bint._  "I have this acquaintance, to whom I've not been really friendly, and I saw her carry that book around for a long time. I thought I could start righting my wrongs by seeing things from her point of view, enter this book."

His revelation met silence for a moment, "Are you enjoying it?"

"I must admit I am. It's quite intriguing and funny at times." He chuckled, and she laughed softly with him. "How would a friend describe you, Thirty-seven?" He was already writing her number on his yes column, somehow he liked her.

"Oh, Merlin. Should you really ask me that? Let me see, I ramble, always know an answer, often lack a sense of humour because I can be too serious, but when push comes to the shove, they like to have me at their side because I protect those I love. Too much?"

"I know a girl just like you." Draco kept drawing circles around her number, she was becoming a certainty.

"Let me fire the same question at you, how would they describe you?"

"Now I'm sure you'll scrape my number off your yes-list. My friends would tell you that I'm a man that makes the wrong decisions for the right reasons. Hotheaded, can be mean - which I often regret later, reliable. Incredibly handsome too."

"I'm writing honest but a show-off." They exchanged laughter, "Morning person or a night owl?"

"Depends. I love to fly in the early morning, while life is still quiet, aside from nature. But I don't turn down a nice evening with friends at a pub with a good firewhiskey." He drew loops on his parchment, absently. "What would you change about yourself, Thirty-seven?"

"Change? More calm down my impulsiveness. I tend to lose sight of the whole picture when I'm angry. You?"

"Not take someone else's truth as absolute, but see the world through my own eyes, not a clouded judgement."

"Do you regret your past actions so much?"

"I do. I just don't know how to make it up to her."

"A simple apology, when genuinely sincere, can perform miracles."

"I'll keep your advice in mind, for when I see her again."

Hermione ended the session with a smile, drawing a big exclamation mark next to his number. Eighty-four was the first who charmed her. And he reads good books.

-oOo-

Three hours later, everyone emerged into the common area of the Ministry, sighing. One had a happy face, others rather an annoyed look on theirs. The mixed group of Slytherins, Gryffindors and a few other housemates gathered as planned in the Leaky Cauldron.

The girls flocked together, "I didn't know there were so many gits in our world." Ginny blew off, "Really Hermione, one of the firsts asked me top or bottom, what an arse." Pansy and Hermione exchanged looks. "What about you, sis?"

"I had one asking me what type of lingerie I wear." Thinking about that nutter still riled her up.

Draco mumbled, "Plain white cotton."

"What was that, Malfoy?"

"I said, grandma's underwear." His signature smirk plastered on his face.

"Pansy, if you come across number ten, that's your friend over here." She thumbed towards Draco.

"For your information, Granger. I'm not ten. Two, it was just a deduction. We all know how much of a prude you are." Harry and Ron abstained from coming to her defence, knowing too well she could handle Malfoy every day and twice on Sunday.

Blaise intervened, "I hoped curly hair here to be more of a still waters run deep sort."

Hermione's eyes sparkled, "For you a question, for me an answer." Harry and Ginny coughed discreetly, just like Ron. Ginny especially, knew Hermione's obsession with a certain underwear shoppe in Muggle London. Too often for Harry's taste, he stood outside waiting for the girls to finish their shopping session.

Harry asked, "What's the score?"

Ron sipped his beer, "I have a really good hunch on one, but I'm afraid I'll have to send her to my mother. She admitted she can't cook." He didn't notice the glare from across the table.

Blaise followed, "I have two who know what top or bottom is, a third that is open to learning and a few others who made feel happy for having a curtain separating me from them, or my bullocks would be gone by now."

Ginny sent him a death glare, "Consider yourself lucky that I wasn't bloodthirsty today, Zabini." Harry rubbed her back, whispering, "That's my girl."

Pansy mentioned condescending, "I have a few catches as well, one stood out for being easily pleased. He eats anything that's edible, especially if it's homecooked."

It rang a bell for Ron.

"And you, Draco?" Pansy probed, "Hermione?"

"Some yes-"

"Only one or two." Draco stopped talking as they both were talking at the same time. "Ladies first."

"Thank you, Malfoy. I'm glad some of your mother's lessons stuck." She faked a smile, "I have one that stood out above all others, plus a few maybe's. And a large pile of big no's."

"Why does he stand out, Granger?" Theo wondered, forcing his gaze to move away from Luna. He was convinced he met her earlier, but wasn't entirely sure; cursing the damn curtain for distorting the real voice.

"Similar tastes in books and so on."

"Don't remind me, Hermione. I had a tosser that thought Quidditch not to be appropriate for women." Ginny stuck the toothpick in a green olive and turned it around before the brunette's face while venting.

"I bet the guy lost to the Harpies in the past." Hermione headed to the bar and ask for some crisps. "I'm hungry. As I was saying, he feels threatened." Shortly after, a large plate of freshly baked fries appeared in front of her. Picking one out she blew on it, before dipping it in the ketchup pot.

Ron pulled the plate in front of him, but she hit on his hands gesturing him to take one but not claim the whole portion. He smiled sheepishly and returned her share, which she slid to the middle of their table. Nearly everyone picked one. "Malfoy, I didn't lace them with poison, they are safe for consumption."

He hesitated.

"Alright, I confess, yours is filled with a love potion, so you fall in love with me. Imagine your parents' horror, their precious pureblood son worshipping the ground a mudblood walks on."

Pansy sent her a warning glare, picked a random crisp and asked, "Is it this one?"

"How did you guess, Pansy?" She took the one right after, "This one is completely safe, though." Ketchup on it and it disappeared in her mouth, licking her fingers off with loud pops.

The Slytherin witch copied her moves and ate with big gestures her bounty, "Oh Morgana, I'm so in love with you, Granger. Let me kiss you!" Stretching her arms out, she dove after Hermione, who jerked away, roaring. "Don't hide from me, love. C'mon, one kiss…"

Everyone around her barked in laughter, except a blond. He stood up, "You know, Granger? I thought earlier today that one of the witches was you, and I called her your name. She made me out for a lunatic, considering herself to be so much better than you. I put her number in the no-column. I guess I made a mistake." He made the motion to leave.

It worked like a bucket full of ice cubes.

"Oh, fuck." Hermione's eyes roamed the table, encountering confused and displeased glares in return.

"Make it right, Granger. I'll not give you a second warning." Pansy's smile vanished in a second.

Blaise added, "He regrets what he did to you, he just doesn't know how to apologise."

Ginny remarked with a wave of a hand, "Saying sorry like you mean it, perhaps?"

Hermione saw his blond hair pass outside their window, "Damn it." Out of breath, she yelled moments later, "Malfoy, stop!"

He kept walking.

"Annoying ferret, can you please show me the decency of waiting until I can say I'm sorry?" She ran after Draco but remained a few feet away, unable to reach him. Much to her relief, he halted.

"You push my buttons." She panted, "I push yours...I don't like you...neither do you like me. But I'm sorry, I hurt you somehow, and I'm sorry."

"Someone told me today, a genuine apology could help. It does, and I forgive you." She was still fighting for breath, and he watched her meticulously as if he was memorising every inch of her face. "I want to apologise too. I was wrong my entire life about you, I've been cruel, and in the end, you still come to my defence. It makes you the better person. Sorry doesn't even begin to cover the whole of it."

"But it's a start if you mean it. Now, worship me the rest of the way to the Leaky, before Pansy skins me alive."

"I still believe you're wearing a grandmother's type of knickers, plain, boring white cotton ones."

"You still ask your mother for a goodnight story."

The mood improved visibly when both joined their table. The plate of crisps was replaced by a new one. Hermione picked the biggest, dipped it on the ketchup and held it before his lips.

He feigned a dirty look between her face and the potato.

"Eat the damn crisp or your house-elf will have trouble getting the tomato stain off your shirt after I paint a Picasso on it." She seethed.

"You wouldn't dare to ruin my silk shirt."

"Mr. Malfoy, wanna bet?"

Holding her gaze in his, he opened his lips slowly, engulfing the crisp in his mouth and nearly biting in her fingers while retreating. His lips closed for a second around the tips. A flicker of heat passed in her look.

"Don't you ever threaten me again, you might not like the consequences."

"The first Malfoy that scares me has yet to be born."

Behind them, Blaise whispered, "Are you seeing what I'm seeing?"

Ginny confirmed, "It's like sparks, I call it a pent-up sexual attraction."

Pansy verified it, "It is."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Magzillasaurus beta'ed this chapter for you, which for I'm grateful.

**Chapter Five**

Cocooned in her living room, legs crossed under her bum, she sat in her favourite spot on the couch, munching on her freshly made fruit salad, and went over her list of yesterday's speed dating candidates.

It consisted of two lists, several full pages - typical for her of course - where she wrote down every thought that came up while talking. Some in such weird writing that she had trouble identifying the word in question; others double underlined so she wouldn't forget, if this were even possible.

The boldly underlined arguments were unmistakably present in her no-list, many sheets long. Words such as sex-maniac, full of himself, too dumb and smart arse were repeated over the whole length.

That one wizard told her she couldn't guess of which material his jumper was made of. Fooly enough she asked, "And?" to receive his smart arse answer, "Of boyfriend material." Hence the first of many to follow.

Her worst sex-maniac informed her that a witches' body counts two-hundred and six bones, and asked her, "Do you want to add another one?" It was as worse as Blaise's line 'top or bottom', luckily one she had been spared of.

The leader of the list 'full of himself' earned the title thanks to his smooth start, "Excuse me, darling. My friend wants to know your Floo address, so he knows where he can get ahold of me in the morning."  _He was lucky there was a curtain between us. What did he think she was? Some bint?_

Between her chuckles, she picked the mango pieces out of her salad. It was her favourite kind of fruit, but she was happy for the use of magic to deal with the annoying job of cutting one into pieces. Hermione bit in her lip, searching for the last cut; why she always did, this was a riddle. Fruit salad without mango was soulless, and yet,  _she did it every time_ , thought Hermione with a sigh.

Admitting her weakness, she focussed on her yes-list. The majority were a maybe, reading books was not a favourite hobby, but their answers had charmed her to a certain point. The adorable way one of them gave his description according to his friends, reminded her of Neville, though the information didn't fit him.

But eighty-four was off limits.

 _Spoke politely,_ she read, noticing the double-underlined 'reads Jane Austin!' followed by:  _expresses regret about the way he treated someone in the past; sounds truthful by the my-friends-description, also mentions his bad qualities, not only the better ones._

Hermione thought of her own words, ' _a simple apology, when genuine_ …"

"Wait a minute."

She sat upright, fork in the air, speaking aloud, "Ah, Malfoy!"

Eyes wide open in panic, "Didn't he say ' _a genuine apology_ '? It can't be him. He and politeness? Puh. Malfoy and reliable? No, in which century, in Merlin's name?" She read her entries, "Hothead? Fits the man, but he's much worse, Malfoy's like a damn wanker volcano, Mount Vesuvius in person: when it starts erupting, it's only crap that comes out of it."

She shook her head, scowling because she reached the last of her fruit salad - she really needed to make the bowl bigger. "What else did eighty-four say about himself? Mean? In Malfoy-glish: a bullseye." Her memories were filled with Mean-Malfoy moments: he was the first one who called her the M-word, wished she was the next basilisk victim,  _so many to recall..._

"It's not because Malfoy is the poster boy for a evil man, that he could be eighty-four. Not in this lifetime."  _Yet, he did apologise, not forgetting to mention how cruel he had been to her...no, it's not Malfoy. He doesn't read books, not literate enough._

She tried to convince herself, the will was there. The intent, however, wasn't; in its place, sheer panic.

-oOo-

It was snake night at Pansy's today, her turn this week.

On the table, a variety of finger food, courtesy of Tibby, Draco's elf. Pansy and cooking was a recipe for disaster, the first time they were forced to move their night-out to The Leaky, so they could escape the smell of burnt food.

On everyone's lips today only one subject: the first round yesterday, an issue that occupied everyone's mind.

Blaise spoke, between two chicken wings, "I don't understand why the witches are so offended when I ask for their sexual preferences."

Theo shrugged, scornful, "Like it's so difficult to figure out, Blaise. You simply don't ask such a thing of a lady the first time you meet." He swung the chicken bone around, meat neatly eaten.

Draco added, "I prefer to find it out in a more exciting environment, Blaise. Like when the witch in question, is pleasing you."

"Be my guest blokes, do go on, don't mind us." Pansy waved it away. "Honestly, if you asked me that on a first date, I would make sure you couldn't sit down for a week after I was done giving your bullocks my special treatment."

Blaise winced, "No need to get violent, Pans."

Daphne spelt it out, "You. Don't. Ask. Such. Things," raising her hands in the air. "It's called being a gentleman instead of a tosser."

"Aren't sexual preferences important for you, ladies?"

Tracey deadpanned, "No."

Pansy rolled her eyes, "Apart from a shag to ease an itch, such things are better discussed inside a bedroom, with mutual consent. Using it as a conversation opener, it's for me like a red flag flashing big, meaning: wanker alarm, stay away!"

"Preach, Pansy!" Daphne cheered loud, Theo and Draco gesturing to Blaise that he got his answer right there.

Theo asked, glass against his lips, "Are you going to share your number with us?"

Draco joined in, ever the sweet-talker, "We are your best friends, aren't we, ladies?"

"You  _are_ my best friend, Draco, and I love you with my whole heart. But this time, you're not getting away so easily."

"Pans, we know each other through and through, I know I picked you out. It's alright, keep it a secret and tell me later if you, too, have noticed me. I'm certain that you were number ninety, so certain that I bet five Galleons." The other men rustled through their own entries, to check where number ninety was on their parchment. Greg and Theo blushed and refrain from comment, apparently written on their no-list.

"Oh, Draco, pass the money, darling. You just lost." She caught him by his chin and shook his head; she knew he hated it, but Pansy loved to rile him up. The grey in his eyes warned her not to take it too far.

The other wizards released a relieved sigh and compared each other's pages. Ninety was on no-ones yes-side.

Draco faced Pansy and spoke low, "Do you know everyone's numbers?"

She shook her head, "Not all of them."

"But if I asked you one precisely, would you tell me?" Somehow, they were having this private conversation, the rest lost in a battle about witty pickup lines, Daphne laughing out loud with one Tracey described.

"Who, Draco? And more important, why?"

He sighed, checked out suddenly if someone was listening, and whispered, "Granger."

"I know her number, but I'm not telling you." She raised a  _muffliato_ around them, discretely, "Now tell me the reason, Draco."

"You know...mudbloods, Potter's sidekick and so on…"

"When you're done with your blah blah blah, I'm all ears. You haven't called her that in ages, I've noticed."

He attempted it once again, whining, "It's true."

"You're lying your arse off. I know, for instance, that she spoke on your behalf, something you did appreciate, though you're acting stupid by not thanking her decently. Second, Yule ball and your lack of attention to me when she arrived. Third, you don't give a shite anymore about blood." She sipped her tea, before snarling further, "And fourth, it goes against the idea of no preconceptions." Her eyes spit fire.

"We would kill each other in the first minute."

"Are you really that scared?" Her try-again face volumes. "Or do I sense long harboured feelings?"

"Are you daft, woman?" He huffed, "Me? Feelings for the swot? When hell freezes over. Not in this lifetime or the next."

Her fingers itched to mess with his chin again, but she refrained, from that and from commenting on his visible panic. He denied it a little too fast to be believable.  _I'll be damned._

-oOo-

The fruit salad bowl was shining bright, but the manual cleaning work didn't satisfy her nerves, and she caved in, searching for that Hershey's chocolate bar she brought on her last trip to the Muggle supermarket.

Happy with her discovery, she broke a chunk and then a second,  _Nothing better to calm your system than a good piece of brown goodness._

Her Floo warned her of an incoming call, "Hermione?"

"Hi, Ron! Do you want something?"

"Could I pop by? I need to talk."

"Of course you can. How come you always pay me a visit when I'm eating chocolate?"

"My talented nose? Why the chocolate? Are you in need of some, how do you call it? Emo…"

She saw him step out of the Floo, dusting away the thin layer of cinder. "Emo-food, Ron, you silly." They hugged, "You are right, though, I'm overthinking things as usual."

"I'm the silly, eh?" He brought her to her couch, stealing a chunk during the passage, "How bad could it be? You ending with Malfoy and me with pugface Parkinson?

"Hehe. Foolish me, right?" Her shoulders shook with her laughter. "Did you only come here to eat my sweets?"

"No, I need advice."

Her full mouth prevented her from answering, so she motioned him to continue.

"'Mione, you have this girl. I mean...there's this girl, and her friends describe her as trustworthy and determined, but she can't cook, likes to dress up - a lot I think, her friends say she's a fashionota."

"Fashionista, Ron."

"Well, that's what I said, Hermione, fashionota." Goofy face, "She stood out."

"Alright, you have another session to confirm your gut-feeling."

"But something worries me. Remember yesterday evening? When we were fraternising with our enemies?"

"Ronnn, new leaf, remember Harry's words?"

"Can't help it, the snakes give me the shivers. It will never change."

"Whatever, what about yesterday evening?"

"When I said that my girl couldn't cook and that I would send her to my mother to learn, remember that?" She nodded, "I saw Parkinson's death stare."

"So?"

"What if it's Parkinson? I can't marry pugface, she'll eat me alive!" Hermione roared, "It's not funny, I'm allergic to snakes, makes me feel murderous."

"You feel murderous? She'll eat you alive?" He nodded at each question, "You gotta chose what's good? Or she kills you, or you murder her. What's the right answer?"

He scratched on the top of his head, "Either way, we kill each other. Possibly, I die first."

She donated the last piece of the milk goody to him, he needed it more than she did. "I believe that there are more Pureblood witches who can't cook, it could be anyone. Plus the fashionista comment applies to any of them as well, right?" He nodded, munching. "My guess is that she got angry because you said you would send the witch to your mother to learn. It could be a trigger. Don't worry."

"But…"

"No preconceptions, remember? Means that we learn our other half through what really matters, not lead by masks or assumptions based on the physical appearance, but by the heart and our gut feeling."

"Still not reassuring, 'Mione."

"Suppose it is Pansy. Let's try that one for a moment."

He looked like a hurt puppy, "Yes?"

"Have we ever had a conversation with her without name calling, peacefully, where we saw the woman behind the bitch-mask?"

"No?"

"Exactly." It didn't sound like a one-way lecture anymore, Hermione felt as she was reasoning with herself. "You don't know her in the same way, roughly speaking, like Zabini or Nott know her, true?"

"I guess…"

"It's a fresh start for all of us, clean slate. We get to know them without the face which angers us to no limits."

"I have the feeling you're talking about yourself?"

"No, no, silly Ron." She bit her nail, "Oh, bloody hell. I might."

"I'm afraid to say this...Malfoy?" Hermione started on a new finger. "Hear me out, if it comes to that, we hit each other on the head hard enough to force reason back into them, also we ask Kingsley to find us a more suitable match."

Her answer wasn't truthful, but she doubted if Ron heard the difference. "Ok. Hit on the head, forget about it. Right. Good idea."  _Did she have a second chocolate bar?_


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday, Tom Felton!
> 
> Please don't get used to an update every two days, I can't keep up the pace. Today's chapter is a peace offering to those I scared the hell out, with the latest Broken Dragon Wings update, it was a very dark one. Plus, it's Tom's day so...
> 
> Oh, My Magzillasaurus did a perfect job beta'ing this chapter for you. Let the naughty begin...oops, said too much...

 

**Chapter Six**

The vibe floating around was one of expectation.

Hermione's surprise was big when she met a large crowd upon arrival, as if everyone looked forward to the second round. Personally, she dreaded it - her supply of chocolate had run out, and she used an apparition point in Muggle London to flash visit a nearby Tesco and restock. It required an urgent replenishing.

To keep her mind off a certain platinum haired wizard who invaded her mind at an annoying rate, she wrote a new list of questions, adding some very specific ones to confirm her suspicions.

Ron bumped into her on purpose, "Do you need me to hit your head?"

"Do you want more chocolate?" A small Hershey's bar changed owners.

"Yo, Gryffindor princess, I almost missed you." Blaise invaded her personal space, kissed her on the cheek, shaking Ron's hand right after. "Princess, did you make a new question list for the poor suckers like us without inspiration?"

"Our Blaise has finally seen reason, Hermione. He learned that his questions were slightly ill informed." Pansy pecked the tanned cheek before greeting the Gryffindors. "We taught him some manners a few nights ago."

Hannah jumped in, "Do you think it helped?"

"We'll see, girl. Men's brains need more time to catch up than ours, right Miss Granger?"

Hermione raised her hand, agreeing wholeheartedly, "Preach, Pansy!" She had anticipated Ron's request - slightly surprised it came from Blaise, of all people - and a stack of copies of her own questions was distributed in no time. The bell chimed, signaling the start of their new session and she mumbled, "May the odds be with me."

"What was that?" Pansy asked curiously, before sitting in the booth next to the brunette.

"I wished myself good luck. Ferret free, I hope."

"The ferret could surprise you. I'm more concerned about a ginger rat, with his mummy cooking course."

"Molly cooks divinely."

"That may well be, it doesn't mean that I'm willing to follow her lessons."

"Don't we do everything for love, Pansy?"

"Damn, we have to stop, I have company." She mumbled something to the other party, before returning quickly to Hermione. "Will you?"

"For the right man? I think so. Hey, Pansy. Good luck with the ginger."

"Don't be too mean to the ferret."

-oOo-

* **Luna** *

"Hello Theo, your aura is shining bright today. Happy to see me?"

"How the hell do you know it's me?"

"I don't, I was going to keep asking until I found you. It's my lucky day to have you as my first."

"First?" He blinked, his mind on something else, "Oh yes, yes, I see. Yes, it's nice to start with a friendly voice. How are you, Luna?"

"I'm so happy. These secret encounters are so funny."

"Have you talked with more interesting blokes?"  _Do I have much competition, witch?_

"A few, Theo. The majority doesn't understand much of what I say, totally the opposite of you, dear Theo." He smiled giddily towards the black curtain,  _she called him 'dear!'_  "And you, Theo, have you spoken to interesting ladies?"

"Not many, they lack this singing tone of yours. Your words carry joy, you know."

"I can imagine, it's the nargles you know? They can make us happy too, when they please."

"Luna, would you like to meet somewhere outside this place? Have some tea with biscuits and get to know each other better?" He wondered if love at first word was a thing, or just some rubbish written in Witch Weekly. He might or might have not perused a copy without Pansy's knowledge.

"We have to fulfil the path Hermione set out before we start dating." The bell sounded in the background. "Just to be certain, it's no Gulping Pimply messing with our minds. See you later Theo, dream sweet dreams of me!"

"I'm sure it's no Plimpy, princess. See you later at the Leaky?" Behind him, someone cleared his throat, impatient.

"We'll see."

* **Harry** *

"Hi, I'm fifty-five."

"Quidditch, love or hate?"

"You're talking to a former seeker, enough of an answer for you? Tell me who you are, please."

"So polite, is Quidditch a sport for both genders or only for men?"

"If you are a chaser like my girl, I would say men don't have it easy."

"Your girl? Why would you join this circus?"

"My girl wants to know if I can pick her out of all the witches present here. I think I'm doing quite a nice job, Ginny."

"What gave it away?"

"Your passive-aggressive question asking if Quidditch is a exclusively mens sport. You were quite riled up yesterday, not that I can complain, honey. The sex was gratifying."

Ginny flushed as the memories returned of her hands-on attack. He was right, it was rewarding as fuck.

* **Pansy** *

"Darling, I'm your number ten." Her eyes widened,  _If only Granger knew._

"Alright, I'm twenty-three."

"Oh, it's you again. Your voice is so soft, I bet as soft as your skin."  _This wizard is so full of shite, Granger was accurate._

"It is, Ten. I spend quite an amount on exceptional salves to keep my skin baby-soft."

"Darling, if you're the love of my life, it will be my pleasure to spend my galleons on your beauty secrets, your beauty is sacred."

"Why is that?" A man that wants to spend his galleons on her is never unwelcome, but it smells fishy now. "Is beauty so important for you?"

"My heart, any man feels proud to have the most attractive woman at his side."

"What else do you want your wife to do?"

"Oh, my sweetheart, a woman shouldn't busy herself with hard issues like work. If you become my wife, you can keep yourself entertained by throwing tea parties and attending others."

"You want a nice doll at your side, but otherwise I'm only allowed to stay in a corner and be a sweet girl." Somehow Granger was rubbing off on her; moreover, she also wanted some agency in her life. Being the perfect pureblood wife just wasn't enough anymore.

"Honey, I wouldn't put it so crudely. You'll have money enough to find your pleasures and fulfil your needs."

"Hmm."

"Tell me, honey. Which kind of lingerie do you like to wear?"

Pansy wrote on her no-list with capital letters: TEN. Overwriting the letters several times to be sure it would not disappear.  _What a wanker. Wait until I tell this to Granger!_

* **Blaise** *

"My dear, I'm sixty-nine."

"Eight on this side of the room."

"Do you want to ask me a question first?"

"Polite, I like it. Let me think...What are you looking for in your wife?"

"My wife...has to be confident enough and not expect me to hold her hand at every corner. My wife should be someone adventurous in bed too, not be afraid of trying new things. She should like my friends and be a social being, not a touch-me-not flower."

"What if she's not into the kinky things you seek?"  _Blaise, I found you._

"Only vanilla? Then she must compensate in other fields, to make it worth it."

"Like what?"

"Not nag me for staying a little longer at the pub with my mates. Be someone I want to go back home to because she makes me feel like a better man." He paused, "What do you seek in a husband, dear?"

"A man that is not only interested in a cowgirl ride, but also in giving pleasure to the woman he loves. I don't want someone to hold my hand for every hurdle, but I want to have an anchor in my life, on whom I can rely when life gets hard. Someone who puts me as his number one priority above anything else."

"Are you Granger?"

"No, but I can understand her fire better than you think. It's your turn to ask me a question."

"Bubble bath or a shower?"

"Bubble bath, I like to indulge."

"Nice, we are getting somewhere. I'll be the one rubbing your back."

"Glass half full or half empty?" Daphne guessed his answer, he always knew how to push her buttons.

"Always half full. It can always be better, we can always improve. Life plays enough tricks, but I refuse to let it get my head down. Didn't you want an anchor? I'll be your rock."

She couldn't put his number in the no-list.

* **Draco** *

"Hi, welcome! I'm number sixty."

_Oh great another annoying bint, her voice irks my hearing already._ "I'm eighty-four."

"Oh, the wizard with the drawl in his voice. Sexy. Tell me, sweetheart, have you accepted Godric Gryffindor as your personal saviour?"

_What the fuck?_  "Never."

"Oh, you're not courageous then? No worries, I'll fight your battles with my inner fire."

_Save me!_

* **Ron** *

He had barely sat down when she spoke up, "Twenty-three on this side." He looked giddy,  _just who I wanted._

"Hi, sweetheart. Your favourite sixty-six at this side."

"Oh, the guy who'll send his wife to his mum to learn to cook."

"Sweetheart, I'll love you so much more for it."

Rat, you're pushing it but stop being a dork. "What if I don't want to learn?"

"Don't you want to make me happy? Imagine my face, while I eat your delicious perfectly cooked roast with potatoes."

"And get all my nails smudged with potato dirt? I eat, sweetheart, I don't cook. Cooking is for house elves." The thought alone.

"Oh." His enthusiasm just vanished, "Oh." He sounded hurt and disappointed, "I might have misjudged you, you should choose someone else. I wish you luck with other wizards, they might make you happier than me."

_Oh, fuck. I'm fucking this up, Parkinson. Fix it, girl, he sounds like a puppy being hurt._

Ron fumbled with his fingers,  _balls I liked this girl. Better now than later._  He got up, scraping the chair against the floor. "Have a nice day."

"Wait!" It was too late. The room was already vacated, so she whispered, "Don't give up on me just yet. I could try?"

* **Hermione** *

The chair on the other side was occupied with much noise, "I'm cutting this short, I'm eighty-four, and I don't worship Godric fucking Gryffindor as my saviour."

Hermione roared, "Poor boy, do you want me to come over and pat your head?"

"Thirty-seven?"

"Yes, right the first time." She continued to giggle, his opening line set her in the mood, "Tell me, your favourite scene of Pride and Prejudice."

"Oh, that again? Let me think...the dance between Elizabeth and Darcy at that Ball, because of what we know."

_Interesting_ , "You made me curious?" She literally hung at his hidden lips.

Draco approached closer to the divider, "Because of the sparring between the two; how she has no idea of his feelings for her." Her silence forced him to explain more, "At that point in the story, we know he loves her, yet she is completely oblivious to it."

"I'm more a fan of the bantering between them, I enjoy a strong woman defending her opinion to a strong man."

"Ah ha, you are a little of a swot then?"

"I've been called that and worse, yes. I'll let you know that I consider it a compliment."

_The swot is the bright light in this day of hell, full of stupid witches, who knew?_  "My turn, little swot. Bubble bath or shower?"

"Do you mean a shared shower or bubble bath? I don't mind being pampered with a languid bath, massages on my back and other intimate parts, it can be quite satisfying. Also rewarding is a quick shag against the wall, and then washing each other under a rainfall shower."

He blinked, not believing his ears; the temperature rising fast inside his cubicle. He cleared his throat to ease the pressure.

No room to rest, "Glass half full or half empty?"

"Am I negative towards life or do I have a positive mindset? Life has given me sour lemons. I don't know yet how to make sweet lemonade from it."  _Should I add… why the fuck not?_ "Hopefully, I find a woman who teaches me how to see the sunshine."

_If this is Malfoy, I'll bang my head against the wall._ "Now you sound like a Hufflepuff."

"Don't you ever repeat that to a snake, dear. He might bite you in your lovely arse."

"How do you know I have a lovely arse?"

"It's my charming side, don't you see?"  _I enjoy teasing the witch_.

"How much importance do you give to blood status?"

Fun time is over, back to the serious stuff, "It's a pile full of dragon dung. In the end, the muggleborn bled as red as I did. If you could go back in time, what would you change?"

"Instead of ignoring the truth, I would offer a certain boy help, so he could come into the light before he got sucked up in the dark."

"The wizard wouldn't have accepted."

"Who said I give up so easily?" The bell chimed. Both groaned, they were far from done yet, totally not ready to say goodbye.

-oOo-

The end of the session arrived faster than expected, everyone reuniting in the centre, lost in thoughts. Draco searched quickly for Blaise, "Mate, you gotta to help me."

The tanned wizard reacted surprised, "How?"

"Come up with something, but let me have one last session with one witch. I need ten more minutes with her."

"A special someone?"

"Yes, Zabini,  _the_  special someone."

"Give me a sec." Blaise paced fast towards Hermione, Draco not far behind - within hearing distance. Blaise gathered all the others on his way; curious faces everywhere. "Granger, some of us would like to have a last talk with a certain number."

Pansy agreed, "I feel you, there are things I want to say to a certain wizard, we left things in a bad place."

Hermione pressed her fingers against her forehead, "How do we do this? I don't want to see a whole army again, my batteries are running low."

"We can suggest only those who we both want?" Hannah suggested, Blaise's question resonated with her too, wanting to speak with a specific wizard to confirm her first and second thought. "Hermione, can't you cast a charm…"

"Where only the wizard and witch meet each other, if both are in the yes-column and if they want to?" Padma finished. "One last moment."

"Blaise, care to do the honours and explain this to the masses, while I try a thing or two?" The idea alone gave her a headache. "I need to run the test with someone. Harry!"

"Yes?" He paced in his typical way.

"Do you have forty-nine on your yes list?"

He rolled his eyes, "Of course I do, I picked her out the first time and now…"

She grabbed Ginny by her arm, dragging her out to one of the cubicles, "Harry, tell me if you see something show up on your side of the divider." The result was more than satisfying.

She got intercepted by Ron, "I'm not staying, 'Mione. I have no reason."

"Why? What happened?

"Things have been said, I misjudged a witch."

"Ron, give it one last shot. She might surprise you. Do it for me…" Hermione's gut feeling said Pansy wanted to set a few things straight, thinking of Pansy's comment from a few seconds ago.

Blaise had by then finished talking, and a minority wished for a third round. "Okay, fellows, we go on this side of the curtain." The group separated just like this morning, "Granger, light up the numbers."

Numbers appeared randomly, pointing out where the wizard was expected. Places were taken, the new ten minutes began.

* **Pansy** *

"Sixty-six, you left before I could say some last words." She didn't want to waste time.

"I thought you've said all you had to say. It was evident to me." Pansy heard the puppy voice; she hurt him, deeply by the sound of it.

"Well, smart bloke, I hadn't. No, I don't want to peel potatoes or get my hands dirty. It feels nasty, it's smelly and so on. But, for the dirty jobs, there's magic to help, to avoid the dirty work. I want to try."

"Try what?"

"Try to make you happy with a nice home-cooked meal, dummy. I want you to give me a chance."

"You don't have to."

"Oh, bollocks, will you puh-lease give me a break, wanker? I just said I want to try!"  _You almost make me regret it, rat._

She could almost feel his breath, from the deep sigh he released, "Are you sure?"  _He sounds like I'm giving him a Christmas present._

* **Hermione** *

Her nerves were wound so tight, not even her known meditation tricks helped to find release. She missed a good chunk of chocolate, each second she waited felt like an hour.

"Ask me anything, thirty-seven."

She recognised his voice immediately, "What was your most embarrassing moment?"

Silence, clearing of a throat before he admitted, "Being punched by a girl in front of my friends."

She mumbled, "You deserved it."

"What was that?" Draco heard her just fine but wanted to listen to it again. She's into him.

"I said: how dare she?"

"Good question, witch. I might ask it the next time I see her." He chuckled, "And yours?"

"Oh, balls, really Mal-Eighty-four?" Between her huffing, she started to laugh, not only noticing her glitch but also thinking about her polyjuice accident. "Turning into a cat, during a polyjuice mishap."

"What?" Eyebrows hid under his fringe.  _That was new._

"I brewed polyjuice...but used the hair of a cat instead of the girl I wanted to…"

"Oh. Why the polyjuice?"  _Give me the goodies._

"We wanted to interrogate a git about a...hmm...room of secr… well, anyway, my friends did make him talk. The ferret didn't notice the change."

_The ferret, eh?_ "You turned into a cat then?"

"Tail and ears included." She could laugh at it now, after all those years.

_This story of hers needs to be continued,_ "You'll have to tell me more if we meet." He lowered his voice to ask her Blaise's favourite question. "Can I ask you something naughty?"

"Do I get a chance in return?"

"Agreed. Top or bottom?"

"Oh, that's a Blaise thing...you must be Slytherin alright."  _I refuse to accept the inevitable. My soulmate can't be Draco._  "Let me think...being on top makes me have control over my lover, which has its perks. On the other hand, bottom means my lover can play the game, deeper or just the head, holding my leg in the air resulting in a different angle and its perks. No, no preference."

This was a game that demanded more than he expected at first. "Eighty-four, are you alright?" She bet he was all undone, imagining his physical reaction to her reply.

"I'm fine." Rasped answer.

"My turn." Is he blushing? A sex god should be able to handle some heat right? "Going down on your girl. Yes please or no thank you?"

He squeaked, drinking from the water glass at his side.  _Isn't Granger supposed to be a prude?_  "If she has kept her lady parts neatly trimmed, I enjoy giving my witch the ultimate pleasure. You know, right? Lapping at her entrance, sucking on her little nub, pressure with the thumb just the right way."  _Did she just moan right now?_

Hermione rubbed her legs, his husky tone turned her on. The whispered comment unavoidable, "Sex god."

"What was that?" The bell chimed.

"Nothing, eighty-four. Nothing."

Draco's chest puffed,  _Consider it a draw._


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, the bantering in this chapter...
> 
> My Magzillasaurus did all the beta reading for you, thank you love.

 

**Chapter Seven**

The hangout group from last time was waiting on each other at the lobby of the Ministry. The men shuffling back and forth, some grinning wide, hands in their pockets; others pulling at their collars to relieve the pressure. Ginny and Daphne joined the men first.

"What's taking so long?" Harry was impatient.

"Oh, Pansy, Padma and Luna are coming, Hermione asked to join later, she had issues to take care of." Ginny winked at Harry, jerking her chin.

He cleared his throat, "Guys, hmm, I would like to invite you over to my place, continue this new leaf of ours in a muggle fashion."

Blaise nodded immediately, "I'm already in, never one to refuse free booze, but what kind of muggle way is it that you suggest?"

"Just an old-fashioned barbeque. Beer, food, talk, get pissed and sing until the neighbours complain about too much noise. Nothing too complicated. What do you say? Theo? Malfoy?"

"Your friend Granger coming too?"

"Don't worry Malfoy, you can continue with that bantering of yours, tonight." Aside from Draco, everyone smirked at Ron's stab. "She'll be joining us as soon as she can."

-oOo-

Hermione needed a second to herself and bee-lined straight to her apartment, before joining everyone else at Harry's. Early this morning, she had helped Ginny with the preparations for tonight's gathering; Harry's idea of a Muggle barbeque brought bittersweet memories, but it gave them more privacy to cement these early beginnings of friendships.

It still surprised her, how quickly she got along with Pansy and Blaise. Theo was the silent one, Tracey was way different than she imagined, the Slytherin witch a calm presence among the snakes. Daphne was very similar to Tracey but more composed.

But at this very moment, she was horny as hell, thanks to a specific blond and his 'naughty questions'. If she didn't handle her little problem before she saw him again, Hermione wasn't sure if she would behave.

_He needed a sip after my first answer_ , her mind didn't give her a break, replaying her memories over and over again,  _But hell, the way he described pleasuring a woman, Good gracious, I almost asked for a demonstration._

Her mind went into the gutter, filled with images of those luscious lips hidden between her thighs, his tongue licking at her clit, and his long slender fingers, made to play the keys of a piano, fucking her deep. "Oh, in Morgana's name..."

It was stronger than herself. Checking out the time with one eye on her night desk clock,  _I have a quarter hour to spare, at least_ , she undressed in a flash, took out her little buzzing friend from his secret place, and with her eyes closed, she gave her imagination the freedom it desired.

Her fantasies took her right to where she wanted to be. His platinum hair between her legs, cheeks hollowed while he sucked at her clit, alternating between a light nipping and a hard pull. Her pinky friend that she magically tweaked, thrust effortlessly inside her wet walls, fucking her perfectly as she pictured Draco would do: pumping first at a hard pace, other curving his fingers just the right way and pressuring her hidden button to turn her into jelly. The head of her vibrator pressed on the spot at that very moment, and her hips jerked, overwhelmed by the sensation.

The combination of her fingers, circling her nub the way she loved it, the images of the git that was too attractive for his own health, and the vibrations at the back of that precise point, pushed her over the edge, blinding her, the explosion, a white light of heat; her loud moans filling her room. Her juices flowed smoothly down her legs, and Hermione smirked at the idea how he would react if he saw her lick her essence from her fingers as if she was sucking his cock.

_Would he be more than average sized? Or have a wide girth? He is the Slytherin sex god according to the rumours, so he must know what to do with his dick._

"Man, what's wrong with me? It's the git, for God sake!"

Putting on some fresh underwear and readjusting her appearance, she went to the kitchen, took the bowl of homemade chocolate mousse out the fridge and headed to Harry's.

Unable to hide the satisfied grin on her face.

-oOo-

"Hermione, everything alright? You were gone almost an hour." Harry pecked on her cheek, taking over her burden, happy to see she made him his favourite dessert. "Do I really have to share this with  _them_?"

"Behave, Harry. New leaf, your own words…"

"But, but…"

"Love, stop pouting, put the bowl in its right place." Ginny turned the wizard around pushing him into the kitchen. "Now girl, I can't put my finger on it, but there's something about you… If I didn't know better, I would guess you were thoroughly shagged."

Innocent shake of the head, "I don't know what you're talking about." Winking at her best friend, she headed into the garden, breathing in deeply to gain some courage. Silver eyes were the first thing she met upon entering.  _Oh dear._

Blaise broke through her trance, "Look who the cat dragged in. I almost suggested a search party, fearing you had been kidnapped by a wizard…"

"Our number ten!" Hermione broke into a burst of laughter, upon Pansy's suggestion.

"You had him too, today? I muted him for the full ten minutes after he introduced himself." Hermione grinned at the thought.

"The arsehole wants a meek wife who attends tea parties and looks perfect." It surprised the Slytherins the most, to hear Pansy talk this way. "I consider it your fault, woman, that I demand more of my other half than simply signing me over the contents of his vault."

"Guilty as charged, in that case. What do you want to do then?" Hermione accepted the beer bottle from Ron, sipping straight from it. Draco's eyes went wide at sight.

"Gosh, I have no idea, I love fashion, though. But I guess I have to figure it all out, first." Pansy followed Hermione's example and tasted the malted drink the same way.  _Not bad._  "How was your hunt today?"

"Decent. Fewer wankers, some boring blokes, and one that got me all horny." That drew the attention of everyone to her.

"What did the bloke do?" Ginny wanted the juicy details, popping an olive into her mouth.

"Ask me that again, when there are no male ears around."

"Granger, we can handle the heat, witch. Share with the class, cara." Blaise's eyes sparkled, especially when he watched his friend flush.

"Ah ha, you wish."

Forfeiting his glass, Draco emptied half his bottle the Hermione way, before teasing, "It's all talk, Blaise. I bet nothing happened. Probably, the horny part comes from talking about boring books."

Ron and Harry whispered, "Oh hell, it's on again. These two should get a room… plus I'm hungry."

Pansy joined, "A galleon Draco wins the battle."

"I'm in." Ginny accepted, "Make it two, my girl knows how to duel...with words."

"I didn't realise you were an expert on my life, Malfoy, and know how I should live it. Please, do continue while I take notes." She bit into a carrot, with small and quick bites, visualising something excruciating if it was performed on a specific male body part. The men grunted.

Daphne whispered, "One for Hermione."

"You want to take notes of my pieces of advice?" His eyebrow hid behind his fringe.

"I'm sorry,  _Draco_. You really seem to think I ordered a glass of your opinion. For the record, I haven't. Harry, where's the iced tea? Too much alcohol messes with my brain…"

The Gryffindor couldn't hide his grin, her witty comebacks were so good… He pointed at the jug.

"Aren't you easy to talk to?" Draco didn't give up so easily

"Who said I was even listening, Malfoy? Harry, who's manning the barbeque?" She walked over to the fire, shaking her hips. "Tsk, Harry! The meat is almost burning."

That woke up Ron from his slumber, not used to Hermione being so obviously witty. He nudged her, while she flipped the chicken drums, "Hey, 'Mione, aren't you taking this flirty thing a bit too far?"

"I'm not flirting, Ron."

"Yeah, right, and I'm Filch."

-oOo-

Around the table, the girls chit-chatted freely, laughing at the flirty one-liners of some wizards and how it missed its goal completely. "I didn't know wizards could be such idiots. I mean, our voices are distorted, and some dare to say we sound so lovely." Pansy chewed on a chunk of chicken.

"That other bloke told me I'm beautiful." Ginny nearly choked on her drink, Hermione was on a roll. "Yeah, right. Get some glasses, dear… Oh, and my favourite one called me  _little swot_. The git was drunk for sure."

"He said the truth, methinks." Draco intervened, feeling called out, regretting doing it on the spot; he gave already too much away.

"Draco, sweetheart, I would give you a nasty look, but it appears you already have one."

"Women say I'm good looking."

"For a ferret? Yes."

"Share with the class, little swot," He used the same brawling tone, as previously, "How did the bloke get you horny again?"

She flushed but refused to back down, "Allow me to give you a lesson in how to seduce a witch. A smart one, I mean." Teasingly slow, she dried her mouth on her napkin, before continuing. "He gave me a rundown of how a bloke goes down on a woman. In a very graphic way."

Ginny conferred with the other women, before asking everyone's question, "And did he know his stuff?"

"Believe me, he isn't an idiot on that field. Almost made me regret the divider if you get the idea."

"Go, girl, if you meet him again, shag him silly," Pansy added her two cents, knowing too well how Draco performed in that area.

"Wait a minute." Blaise frowned, "I get flamed for asking about top or bottom. But according to you, Miss Granger, it's okay to describe that kind of sexual act?"

"This conversation is really perfect for a barbeque." Harry leaned back in his chair, finding pleasure in how the snakes were cornering his Hermione.

Daphne retorted, "If you start the first conversation with that kind of request, it is. I believe, however, that Hermione's wizard…"

"...Answered my question, following up a naughty one from his."

"What did he ask first?" Luna smiled dreamily at Theo. "He must have been testing the waters."

"Blaise's favourite question."

"Now we're talking, the dude wasn't an idiot."

"Blaise, he is."

"He's not." Draco didn't like where this was heading.

"Why is it okay for you to be an idiot, but not okay for me to point it out?"

"Upstairs, first floor, the third door on the right. Feel free to use it and scratch the itch between the two of you." Ginny pointed behind her.

"Ginny?"

"You have been at it with each other since you arrived, Hermione. We can't have a normal conversation at this table without you finding a reason to banter. Shag each other senseless, so we can finally find some peace. Raise a silencing charm first, will you?"

"Weaslette, I'm not that easy."

"Ginny, don't worry, I took care of the business myself." Blaise spat his beer out,  _Hermione is a hellcat, oh man, my mate is so gone._

"Is that so, Granger? Isn't it kind of lonely?"

"Oh,  _Draco_ , you're so cute when you talk about things you don't understand."

"Please, Hermione. Have mercy on us!" The brunette grinned at Ron's plea. Who knew bantering with the git was her newest source of fun? She crossed looks with the blond, and his smirk left nothing to the imagination.

_If they were alone, he would show her precisely how much she missed…_

Hermione drank her tea, licking the leftover drop, not taking her eyes away from him. He gulped.

-oOo-

The food was well savoured, Harry knew how to marinate the spare ribs, and the rubbing of the chicken was just like Hermione's mother used to do. The purebloods started eating according to the table etiquette, using fork and knife; but aside Daphne and Pansy - so their nails wouldn't get too dirty, the rest gave it up almost immediately and chose to go full Muggle, eating with their hands, the crisps included.

"Next part is the cooking right?" Pansy cleaned her mouth on her napkin.

"Yes, it's all set just like we planned it." Hermione liked the barbeque sauce off her fingers, she loved the sweet smokey taste of it. Stealing quickly another sea salted crisp, she waited for the next question.

"Mrs. Weasley agreed to do it?"

"Oh, nearly instantly, I barely had the time to ask my question. She loves to cook…"

Ron kept munching on his last drum, "Mum's leading... _chomp_... the next... _chomp_...test? Nice..."

Blaise side eyed the ginger head, "Do you cook, Weasley?"

"Nope, I eat."

"This next test is not witches-exclusively, you know? You will have to cook."

"Aw. Is that right, 'Mione?"

She smiled gleefully, "What he said."

"Do we get to choose, what we cook?"

"Ron,  _that_  would be too easy, you would try to get away with a bacon sandwich." Laughter rose. "Your mother has decided which dish, it will be the same for everyone, fair play."

"What then?" Theo didn't fear this next hurdle, as cooking was a secret hobby of his. Unless the Weasley-mother was planning on a six-course dinner, he could handle most of the things.

"The plan is, everyone the same, girls get to taste and decide which plate is their favourite. We'll keep the blind issue in the fact that the number of the plate is not the regular one, but one that will reveal itself after the last trial."

"The pageant thing, right Granger?" Pansy wiggled with her eyebrows.

"By the way, Ginny, do you fancy a trip to Muggle London?" Hermione's change of subject surprised everyone.

"For?"

"The pageant contest, what else? I want a new beachwear outfit and the latest releases from Victoria Secret caught my eye."

"We just went there three weeks ago…"

"Three weeks ago, I didn't plan on parading down a catwalk like cattle waiting to be inspected, duh! This stupid law, remember?" She checked her nails, "I want to pamper myself, and my gaze fell on a particular one."

"Granger, dear, do you mind if we join you?" Pansy asked a question on every Slytherin witches' lips.

"Oh, not at all. But I'm warning you, I can spend quite an amount of time in that shop, ask Harry." The addressed wizard acknowledged the fact with a roll of his eyes. Hermione seemed to have forgotten about her other companions. "Ginny! They brought one out, a balconette just like the one I'm wearing," She uncovered the green strap, "The cups are like a sheer layer of lace, and it pushes up right about here," Hands demonstrated the fitting, shoving the two breasts together and upwards.

All the girls hung at her lips, much like the men did, aside from Harry who grew used this kind of moments between both witches. He did lean towards his former nemesis, talking low, "Do you still stand by your plain white cotton?"

The blond's complexion looked firmly red by now, unable to look away from the witch that kept talking about her love for lingerie.

"On the picture, they showed it with a low cut Brazilian panty, more a string than knickers, you know?" Hermione smirked. "I'm dying to try it on."

"The colour?" Ginny was enjoying the major private joke, thorned between the reactions of Draco to Hermione's words, and the enthusiastic way her best friend described the newest design.

"Flame red. I only have three of those, Ginny, you know my love for green lingerie." Something clicked inside Hermione's mind, and she flushed. "Shit." A hand covered her face.

Blaise added to her fire, "Please, do go on...don't stop now. I was enjoying that quite a bit, you know. Though, the image I had of the book-loving prude is being shattered to pieces in the meantime." He rubbed his chin, "Green, huh? My mate is more a navy blue kinda bloke, but he's a Slytherin at heart, I do think he can appreciate his house colours on a sexy woman."

The Malfoy grin reappeared.

"In fact," Blaise continued, "We don't mind accompanying you, ladies, on this shopping trip, in case you need some advice. About the fitting. Right, lads?"

Harry turned it down as fast as Ron did, "Be my guest, I'm forfeiting this one. My Ginny knows what I like."

"Underwear shopping? Not my favourite past-time. I pass."

"Let me guess, Blaise. You'll want to touch to check out if it does fit well?"

"Granger, what a perfect suggestion." Somehow, Draco saw himself already inside the fitting room, testing foremost, the stretching qualities of the fabric. Hermione's hands had curved around a full breast, something he failed to foresee, previously.

"Whatever helps you during your me-moment with your mini-Draco. I'm glad to hand you over a new fantasy purely free of charge for the record." She licked the salt off her finger. "This trip is a girls-only. You may consider yourself lucky, to watch us parade at the pageant."

"I can't wait to peel it off of your body."

"Keep on dreaming, ferret."

Everyone grunted, "Get a room!"


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One, as I'm meeting Tom Felton tomorrow for the first time, I wanted to celebrate it with you.
> 
> Two, This was one of my favourite chapters to write, I hope you can find out why...
> 
> Three, My Magzillasaurus was also impressed... plus she beta'ed this for you, thank god for her assistance.

**Chapter Eight**

"I'm so fucked up." She fell back on her bed, hands on her face. "Me and my mouth, damn it. Why did I have to go and spill the beans about my secret passion?" Grabbing the pillow, she covered her face, hugging her cushion tightly against her chest. "The git was listening in, you dumb arse!"

She flipped on the bed, head hidden deep in her pillow, her arms and legs kicking like a toddler who didn't get its way. "Grrr, I can be such a moron, jeez!" She turned on her back again, "He did listen. Probably for the next wank session, but who cares? The git was paying attention." She flushed, "Did he memorise it? It's nice to know that he likes navy blue."

Hermione flew out of bed, pushing her drawer open and searching for her dark blue sets. "None sexy enough." She closed it, "Wait a minute, am I contemplating a round between the sheets with the ferret?"

From the bedroom, she went to the living room, poured herself a firewhiskey, downed it in one swallow and considered a second. "Can fate be that cruel? The kid that made my life a misery becomes the man who's my perfect match? No, no, no." She flopped on the nearest sofa. "He does look good. Too good." The giddy smile on her face was by no means wiped away. "I haven't been shagged decently in ages, it's making me desperate. Ahhh!"

She ran with a giggle back to her bed, jumping onto the mattress and laughing freely from the bouncing. "I'm doomed."

-oOo-

*Malfoy Penthouse*

Draco headed straight into his bar, pouring a double that looked more like a quadruple. Undoing the buttons on his Oxford, and sipping his firewhiskey, he fell onto the couch with a plop.

The witch kept amazing him at a rate he never thought possible. Her witty comebacks, delivered with the perfect features, stroked the part of his mind that required a partner with a brain. A better one than Granger's was hard to come by, if not impossible.

He meant every word he said to her during their two sessions. He admired her, regretted his actions wholeheartedly, foremostly how he allowed someone else to cloud his judgement so profoundly. If today taught him something, it was how he genuinely enjoyed the Trio's company. Weasel and he might never be the best of buddies, polite at least; but Potter was kind of cool and funny. His Muggle upbringing gave him a no-nonsense approach, a do-as-you-please, everything-is-fine kind of way.

Take eating with your fingers, for instance. Purebloods consider it appalling, but there's something freeing about licking your fingers. He used to judge the Weasel for it, yet today he caught himself doing the same.

Just like drinking straight from the bottle. His father would have a heart attack on the spot, etiquette above everything else. It turned out to be a moment between friends, clinking the bottles in cheers, and letting go. When she did it, right in front of his face, he felt something stirring.

Then she started to banter with him, just like her Elizabeth and Darcy. He laughed heartily at the memory.

Inside their cubicle, she's calm itself, gave genuine answers, even during the second round - he was certain she had a hunch about his identity, much like he did. Out in the open, she pushed his buttons as deep he did with hers, unable to avoid stirring the monster. It felt too good...

What he also noticed during this back and forth of them: the lack of animosity. None of it was meant to hurt, rather probe and tease.

It was at this point of reviving memories and contemplating thoughts, that his mind took him where he had been avoiding.

When he asked Blaise's question, he wanted to draw her out; see if she would take the bait and raise the stakes, instead of reacting offended. He saw the last time with that crisp she fed him, how her eyes responded to him and his finger licking. A true mirrored image of how he felt right there. If they had been alone, he would have pushed her against the wall and fucked her senseless.

Inside their cubicle, she had surprised him with her answers. He didn't know what to expect, more inclined to think she demanded control in her life at every aspect; yet, she weighed on the spot the pros and cons of both positions, leaving it up to him to choose the pace. Hot as hell.

Exactly after his inquiry, she goes and asks him out of the blue, if he goes down on a woman. The answer is no, but this was something only Pansy knew. He did it once, to please the witch after her insisting nagging, somewhere in a dark alcove at Hogwarts. It was not his cup of tea, he had never repeated it with anyone else, and Pansy knew this fact too.

However, Hermione? The thought was not as absolutely disgusting as he was used to thinking, rather, to give her pleasure by his hands, an empowering feeling.

He wondered,  _since when do I consider the witch as someone he wanted to please?_  The fact was indisputable: when she asked him, his first hunch was a big solid yes. Probably due to his brain shutting down at the image of her bouncing tits while she straddled him and fucked his dick with abandon.

His cock stirred to life once again, and he palmed his erection through his pants, "Why the hell not?" Closing his eyes, head slammed back into the sofa, he let his imagination roam free.  _Granger in her sexy push-up bralette and a g-string barely covering the basics, taking his dick into her hot mouth and sucking it like a good girl. Paying extra attention to the head, tongue flicking over his slit, tasting his pre-cum as if it was her appetiser. His hand would knead her perky breast, tweak her nipple to draw a hiss from her throat._

In the meantime, his hand had opened his belt and fly, releasing his rock-hard erection and stroked it at the same pace as his dream-Hermione sucked him.  _Mini-Draco, she called it...if she only knew I'm having some me-time with my mini-Draco._  He chuckled, eyes still closed.

_She was straddling him now, thighs tightly around his waist, his cock deeply buried inside her slick cavern. Tight and hot, soaking wet, only for him. His hands grabbed her waist, and he used his core strength to thrust upwards into her. Mouth catching her bouncing tit, sucking hard on her taut nipple, biting into the flesh. He made her moan and cry his name out._

His hand wanked harder on his cock, hips jerking at an erratic pace, his orgasm just around the corner. Two more pulls on his steel-hard dick it's all it took, "GRANGER!" Spurts of cum flew onto his abdomen and everywhere, with each pull of his hand; the release more than welcome.

He remained on the couch, spent. Smile on his lips, though. A smile that turned into a chuckle, too lazy to clean himself thoroughly. Instead, he accioed his wand, applied a scourgify, and breathed deeply in.

If it were his call, he would skip all these activities and ask the witch on a decent date, woo her according to the numbers and shortcut on the blah blah blah. Being Granger, he knew his odds to do so, were virtually none. As they stood now towards each other, he felt confident that she looked over her preconceptions and would give him an honest chance.

Hermione Malfoy.

It had a ring to it.

"Fuck, I'm doomed."

-oOo-

Six witches entered the flagship store of Victoria's Secret like queens, in the midst of Muggle London. Hermione couldn't avoid releasing a sigh of pleasure. Ginny held her by the shoulders, "It's nearly as good as Flourish and Blotts, eh Hermione?"

"Second to that one, as you know so well." She gasped at the first mannequin, wearing the lingerie set she had been drooling about since she got her hands on the newest Vogue. "Look, Ginny, that's the one!"

"Actually, it seems they have it in navy blue also," Pansy suggested, with a cunning smile. "I do admire your taste in dainties, Hermione. I sense I'll spend some money in this place. Thank Merlin that you suggested changing galleons into Muggle currency."

By that time, Luna, Daphne and Tracey had spread around the shop, giggling and gasping at the exposed items. Hermione riffled through the pile until she found her size. "Gotcha!"

She moved onto the beachwear section, perusing between the modest and less modest designs, "I have this one, and this one, oh and this one too."

Pansy followed her closely, "How often do you come here, Granger?"

Ginny arms were also well filled with items, "Nearly every month. It's her secret pleasure, right behind her love for books and chocolate. Not your first thought, right?"

Totally unaware of her surroundings, Hermione never noticed the arrival of three wizards. Two days after the barbeque and one day before this shopping trip, Ginny and Pansy agreed to invite Draco without Hermione's knowledge, Harry forced to join in for his girlfriend's pleasure.

Blaise had invited himself, curious about Hermione's behaviour, but also because he wanted to keep a close eye on another Slytherin witch. The hints from the previous encounter, made him wonder if the Greengrass girl had more up her sleeve than at first glance.

Harry approached Ginny and grabbed her from behind, "Hi lovely. Having fun?"

"HARRY!" Hermione shrieked in a low voice, blushing heavily, as she was fingering a very sexy set, with no fabrics over the cups, only the underwire. She spun around and hid her newest finding behind her. "I wasn't expecting you here."

"Oh, don't worry. I don't like the one you were eyeing. Too revealing." Hermione became redder on the spot, after Harry's comment.

A drawling voice whispered in her ear, "I wouldn't mind, one I don't have to unclasp to gain access to your lovely bosom."

Hermione screeched, spinning around faster than lightning, eyes wide. Gritting through her teeth, she also moved her basket behind her back, "What are you doing here, ferret?"

"I was in the neighbourhood."

"My arse you were!"

"Can I see what you've selected?"

"Touch any of it, and I'll hex you, Malfoy."

"How can I decide which one I'll gift to you, if I can't choose between your selections?"

"I don't need your money."

"I know you don't. Which is kind of refreshing, really." Her eyes spit fire, and he was enjoying it. He couldn't recall a moment when he'd had his much fun. "Oh well, if so, you'll force me to choose something of my liking." He picked a bra out of her basket, eyeing the size tag. "34C, perfect. See you in a bit, love."

"Hold your hippogriffs, Mister. You'll not be buying lingerie for me."

"Granger-love, try to stop me." He moved into the spicy section.  _34C? They would fit his hand just perfectly._  He picked the first nice little nothing he found, showing it to her. "Do you like it?"

"I have one similar to that, Malfoy." He looked dumbfounded, between her and the piece he held in his hands. "In bright pink." He gulped.

She followed him closely, though; watching his slender fingers touch the lace, did weird things to her mood. He pointed at some choices, and she shook her head or nodded, telling him each time if she possessed or not some comparable items. When she told him no, he perused through the colour, searched the correct size, added the item to her pile, including the matching bottom, the size of it also learned in a similar way.

And she let him do it.

Her girls were temporarily forgotten although  _they_  were watched from afar, shocking everyone with how they got along. Every item he chose, increased his surprise, often thinking how wrong he was about this enticing woman. Plus it fuelled his overloaded fantasy; a few rejections later, and it bewildered him how did she had ever gained the title of prude, in Salazar's name. Not even Pansy was this adventurous.

A corset stole her attention, and she left him, to admire the satin laces and the delicate broderie. Hermione touched it with a look of reverence, thinking about that one dress that would go perfectly with it. Giddy, she took her size down from its higher bar; biting in her lip, she turned around while putting it with the vast heap.

Draco met her gaze and her breath faltered. His eyes were like liquid mercury, the lust written all over the orbs. Gone was the pretence. For both. In its place, the certainty that there was this thing between them. Something neither of them denied, in fact, both very much open to exploring.

One word flashed red in her mind.  _Doomed._

Shaken, she headed towards the fitting rooms, with him in her trail. "Where do you think you're going, Malfoy?"

"See how it all fits."

"In your dreams. Wait here." Her finger stabbed in his chest, halting his movements.

"Let me see at least one."

"You don't get to demand."

He called her out, huskily, "One. It's all I ask."

Her breath quickened. Tongue slipping out to wet her dry lips.

He growled quietly.

She curled a corner of her mouth, lowered her gaze, and entered the first free dressing room.

-oOo-

"One more spark and someone needs to call the muggle firefighters." Blaise shoved a bottle of water in his hands, "Cool down a little, mate."

"She's amazing."

"I can see it, mate. Does she have any competition?"

"Huh?"

"Is there another witch on that list of yours?"

"Scratched off all the other numbers, after that second time."

"I'm happy that you found your counterpart."

"Huh?"

"Mate, you're so gone… She's wound you around her finger, and you never saw it happen."

"Maybe?" Draco paid more attention to the shadows under her door, than to Blaise's words. The strap of a black bra fell under the entrance, and he nearly crouched to pick it up; a female hand beat him at it.

"Draco?"

As in a trance, he walked towards the voice. The door opened slightly, only wide enough to give him entrance. He complied and locked anew.

Hermione stared at him from the mirror, hands crossed at her chest, that rose and fell with rapid breaths. Draco approached her, the pad of his forefinger following the shape of her spine from the neck until it hid under her corset. She shivered.

Grey eyes roamed over the back of her bodice, until it stopped right above the curve of her spine, and proceeded into a small thread through the crease of her behind. Her firm globes. Perfectly shaped.

His hands landed softly on her shoulders, and he turned her to face him, moving one arm then the other until the rounded shape of her bust was uncovered, the plunge fitting pushing both mounds upwards into a sexy cleavage, the small bow giving it the final feminine touch. He took it all in, using all his control to not ravage her on the spot.

Draco drew a long breath, Hermione closed her eyes feeling the hot air caressing her skin. "It fits you like a glove."

The same finger traced her collarbone, up through her neck until the palm of his hand could curve around her cheek and pull her to him. Hovering just above her lips, he waited for her sign of refusal. Seconds later, he kissed her heatedly, her arms curling around his neck to pull him closer, Draco's free hand palmed a globe and pushed her towards him, his arousal now undeniable present. Her tongue probed gently, seeking entrance and he gave it all to her.

Moments later, they broke apart, both blushing and breathing heavily. Foreheads leaning against each other, a thumb stroking her bottom lip. Eyes closed.

"Let me take you to dinner."

"No. We finish this course first."

"You're mine."

"Don't be so sure yet." Using both hands, she shoved him off her, opened the door and pushed him out. "I'm not that easily won."

"I don't walk away from a challenge, Granger."

She stuck her tongue out, closed the door and leaned against it, hand on her heart.

_Doomed, indeed._


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I met Tom Felton this weekend and he is, without doubt, the most adorable dork I ever met, I love him. Ha!
> 
> This time, no refrigerator needed, just make sure you're into some good laughing. Cooking Test Part One!
> 
> Please thank also my dear Magzillasaurus for her editing. It was needed.

 

**Chapter Nine**

He didn't buy her one set.

He bought her whole basket. Including a bathing suit she asked a saleswoman to pick up outside his attention. Hermione hid it at the bottom of her load, handing her burden to the nearest check out before he would peruse and find the item. Due to her nerves, she didn't pay enough attention, and when the woman called out how much it all cost, a black credit card was handed over before Hermione could take hers out.

"I told you, I pay for my own things."

"Too late, love." He signed off on the little window, winking at the saleswoman, who was having a tough time trying to remain professional. Her perfectly manicured hand shook when she handed over the plastic card and the receipt. He checked it line per line, staring straight into her eyes when he came across the mentioned beachwear. "I haven't seen you chose this one."

"Possibly."

The finger tried to open the bag, "Show it to me." but he retreated the digit lightning fast, after a stinging hex. "Auch. Witch."

"My other middle name, pleased to meet you." Cheeky grin, which turned into suspicion, "Since when do you have a black credit card?"

"Courtesy of Gringott's bank and an urgent request." He closed in, "I'm an outstanding client, as you know. When I say jump, they ask how high."

"Prat."

"Also my unknown middle name, likewise."

"Draco Prat Malfoy. Could be worse."

"Darling, you must learn the name of your future husband by heart, Draco Lucius Prat Ferret Malfoy."

"You forgot the Git."

"That's for between the sheets, sweetheart."

-oOo-

*Cooking Test: the Wizards tournament*

Molly Weasley stood straight, dressed in her flowery apron, hands on her waist. "Welcome lads. Today you'll create for your lady a perfect three-course meal. A husband should be able to provide for his witch in every aspect, not only enjoy the pleasure she bestows upon you inside the bedroom."

The mood was set.

"Mum, why do we need to cook?" Mother and son exchanged a glare, the wizard flinched.

"Your son is right, we have elves for that." From the stands a very loud huff floated their way, Draco recognised even without turning, from whom it came. He could be wrong, but Blaise's question was probably more of a rubbing than a real inquiry, knowing the Italian's love for cooking.

"Mr. Zabini, as part of the board who created this test, you should know the wizard must help his witch if she needs him. Imagine: your wife is bedridden because of an illness, and your elf is unavailable for some reason. Are you going to let your wife starve because you refuse to cook? Moreover, shouldn't you at least try to prepare a decent meal, for the woman you love?"

Against so many valid points, there was only so much a wizard could argue. "You've made your point, Mrs. Weasley."

"I'm happy to clear away the doubts. Now, today's meal is the same for every one of you: leek soup, roast with carrots and mashed potatoes, and sticky toffee pudding."

From the stands, a female "hmmm" filled the space, mouth watering at the prospect…

"Brother, you gotta help me…" Draco felt the panic rise. He had baked cookies as a kid with his elf, the process very similar to potion making, and he enjoyed the chore. But even he doubted if this meal was doable in his case.

Molly's voice surged, "Don't worry, lads, I'm not going to push you into this and let you drown on the spot. You'll all receive a parchment with instructions, all you have to do is follow the steps… not that a recipe is going to save your arses. Even a witch can mess up things, despite the guide."

Only a few wizards chuckled, the rest getting more scared by the minute.

"Please welcome my assistants." An army of elves, all dressed in aprons and cooking hats, entered the room with military precision. "They'll guide you but not cook for you. Plus, they'll make sure you're not cheating in any way, you're not allowed to use magic. Don't forget: you're doing this to please your witch, lads. Now, search for a workbench and let's get started."

The area had been transfigured into rows of benches, all including a stove with an oven, working space and a sink. Sharp looking knives inside a wooden block, plus some extra handy cooking utensils were the only items on the tables. A considerable stand faced them on the opposite side so the witches could watch the wizards at work. Not one seat was empty.

"Are you waiting for me to take you by the hand maybe? Move!"

The masses got in motion, Blaise and Draco choosing to stay close, more out of necessity for the blond. Theo closed their ranks, with Harry and Ron in front of them, the first row.

"Hey, Potter. Have you done this before?"

"Yep, at the Dursleys. The pudding is a sticky matter, and I advise you to start with it so you can let the sauce give the whole dessert the finishing touch. It becomes extra sticky."

"Can you help us?" Blaise was not afraid of the roast nor the soup, but desserts weren't his forte.

Harry scratched his hair, "I already have Ron on my plate, boys…" The Slytherins nodded in understanding. "Listen, I'll see what I can do."

Shopping basket in hand and the list on the other, the boys headed as a group to the vast display wall on the corner, with all the ingredients and some extras on its shelves. Draco picked what he recognised easily, following Harry's advice and focussing only on his dessert. His hand stretched to take a pack of brown sugar, but Harry shoved him another, "This is the demerara you need. The one over there won't do the trick."

"Thanks, Potter."

"You owe me a butterbeer after this, Malfoy."

"I'd guess more than one by the time we are finished."

-oOo-

Ginny and Hermione were rubbing their hands, grinning wide. "Look at Ron! He's panicking, mum chose his favourite dessert, but he's never stretched one finger to make it."

"Why does he demand a witch that can cook, if he doesn't do it himself?" Pansy paid extra attention to the ginger rat, remembering his words.

"He loves to eat, Pansy. If you want to make him fall in love with you, cook for him, fill his stomach. He'll be putty in your hands." Hermione's focus however, was on the blond, whom's forehead creased in concentration. He was following the recipe to the tiniest detail, measuring cups and weighing pounds precisely. She leaned farther forward in her seat, elbows on knees, not wanting to miss one bit.

His demeanour reminded her of their joint classes with Snape; she saw him often this way, measuring the ingredients accurately for his cauldron. He would bite on his lip, just the way she did. With well-defined movements, he chopped the dates into small pieces as if they were the herbs, added the boiling water, and so on.

From time to time, he would look up, check things over with Blaise or even with Harry, and return to his batter, adding flour here, beating eggs there, pouring the mix into tins to shove it, as last, inside the oven he previously had heated up to the exact temperature. He kept asking Harry if he did it right until the Gryffindor came to look at it personally.

The result at the end of his dessert: a boy covered in white dust, a stripe of trickle on his cheek and beaming with pride for his accomplishment.

"Hey, Potter, how do we time 20 minutes without our wands?"

A finger pointed at a timer in the shape of a chicken. "The muggle way, Malfoy. First, we turn the chicken's upper body till the end, and then we point the arrow at precisely 20 minutes. When it's time, you'll hear it, believe me." Draco didn't trust it, but he had no other choice.

Draco turned to Theo, "Theo, now what first? The roast or the soup?"

Blaise slammed the door of his oven shut with a bang, "The roast, it goes into the oven after these puddings. The soup is the last thing you'll cook." He patted the blond on his back, "We go shopping again, grab your list."

More confident than the first time, Draco placed his meat, vegetables and potatoes into his basket. He frowned when Blaise picked some extra herbs not included in the list. "What are those?"

"Basil and oregano."

"Is your list different than mine?" Draco reread his page, his forehead creased and his lips pursed, dropping an eye on Blaise's.

"Mate, I'm giving it an Italian touch. These have to be added with care, too much and your recipe is pffew."

"Oh." Draco shrugged and returned to his hunt, "Show-off pasta lover." He followed Blaise's every move with scrutiny, huffing and judging the new choices of his friend. When the man grabbed a bottle of wine, he couldn't hold himself any longer. "Wine too?"

Annoyed with the nagging, Blaise picked a bush of the same herbs, and dropped them in Draco's pile, "The wine we can share, there's no need to waste the god's drink. The rest, here, take it, I'll guide you when it's time. Now shut up, or I'll mute you."

The blond sniffed at the herbs and nodded in approval. Returning to his table, he copied Blaise's every move, while the other man set everything ready according to a specific order. "Bullocks, I forgot something. Stay here, mate." Moments later, he dropped a small nugget in Draco's hand. "This is for your mashed potatoes, don't lose it." The blond sniffed once more but retreated, disgusted. "Yes, smart arse, it's quite intense isn't it? You'll thank me later. A puree without nutmeg is like pudding without sugar."

Draco washed his hands thoroughly and prepared to attack his piece of roast beef. "Do I have to wash this?"

"Are you demented?" The tanned wizard ripped the meat out of the blonds' hands, and set it with a plop on the cutting board.

Even Theo shook his head, "Why do you want to wash the roast?"

"Rinse away the blood?" Theo gestured as if Draco was crazy. The blond huffed. Lifting his hands in the air, he turned his attention to the recipe and grabbed the garlic cloves. He read  _peel the skin and crush the garlic_. Watching Theo's actions closely, he peeled and smashed it just like the other wizard. He salted the meat, added pepper and rubbed the garlic over the whole piece, wrinkling his nose at the smell on his hands.

Harry shoved him a metal soap bar. "This will neutralise the stench. Rinse under water."

"How many do I owe you by now?"

"Lost count. Buy me a dinner at the Leaky, we're even then."

"Wow, wait a minute, our brother here will buy us all dinner. We're saving his arse for his girl, if you know what I mean…"

"Shut it."

"You haven't shared with the class. Does Granger look good without robes?" Draco squeezed his eyes shut, a silent warning. "Greengrass bought a little nothing in red, so sheer that I forgive her for her bad choice of colour."

"You were checking out Daphne?"

"I was close by, no big deal."

"Be a real Slytherin, bro. You're lying shit." The chunks of butter surrounded the roast in the porcelain oven dish. Gently he laid the beef neatly in the centre, the evenly cut carrots around the meat as Molly's recipe dictated.

Blaise came over to his bench. He picked a handful of basil, "Chop these very thin, rinse some stems from the oregano and disperse them over your roast and carrots." His instructions were carefully followed but also supervised by a house elf.

"Can I put it in the oven now?"

"Wait until your puddings are baked, the temperature has to be adjusted."

Both wizards jumped in the air, startled by the sharp ringing. Harry grinned, "Malfoy, I believe your twenty minutes are finished."

"No shit?" He opened the door of the oven, waving off the steam. Hands were ready to pick up the tin when Theo pulled him back.

"Are you insane? This shit is hot as hell, you'll burn your fingers." Theo shoved oven mitts in Draco's hands. "Use this."

Hermione chuckled, glad the blond had good friends to help him out. So far, what he did made her hungry, pleasantly surprised to see Draco follow the Italian seasoning from Blaise. He waved his oven mitt covered hands at her, she wiggled her fingers in return. Carefully the dessert was taken out of its mould, the sticky sauce covered it, and the blond set it aside, just as Harry advised, to let it soak in the sugary layer.

Unfortunately, between his task and teasing Hermione, he touched with his bare finger on a freshly removed tin. "Fuck, shit, Salazar's sagging left nut, Merlin's tits."

Molly eyed him, "Need some more help coming up some extra curses, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Sorry, Mrs. Weasley. I burned my finger."

"Cool it off under cold water, apply this balm and wrap the finger before you continue to cook."

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley."

"Ask Granger if she can kiss it better, perhaps?"

"You're the proof that the Wizards have a sense of humour, Zab's."

"Moron."

"Love you too, mate."

-oOo-

Draco focussed on his penultimate task, the mashed potatoes.

The starting point of a puree was peeling potatoes. Veggies with a filthy coat of dirt.  _Gross._

Harry emerged his, peel included, in a pan with boiling water, "Hey, Potter, don't you have to peel those?"

"I'm just using a muggle trick."

"Tell me, and you get an Ogden's bottle of firewhiskey."

"Mr. Malfoys yous are cheating with briberys?" The elf from before looked accusingly at the blond.

"No, I'm only asking for advice." He shook his head, after the creature disappeared, satisfied with his answer. "Potter, please?"

"Someone's desperate."

"This is a gross job. All the dirt under my nails…"

Harry winked, "Make a light cut like this," his knife demonstrating a light incision in the peel of the potato along with the width, "Boil the potato for a minute or two, count until hundred twenty." Evil grin met fake smile. "You'll be able to reap the peel off, without a fuss. Ogden's, wasn't it? Nice doing business with you."

"Holy fuck! Potter!"

"What? Is Voldemort back?"

"You didn't tell me this water was scalding hot!" Draco blew on his fingers, dancing from one foot to the other.

"Duh?"

In the end, Draco was glad he followed Harry's advice, the skin coming off, hassle-free. Following the recipe from there, he cooked, smashed, added the milk, the pepper, butter and the egg yolk. The end result was a smooth puree.

"Have you sampled it?

Blaise made a valid point, and the blond used the tip of the knife to have a taste. "Hmm, more salt."

Blaise took the grinder and demonstrated with the nutmeg. "The secret of an excellent mashed potato lies in the balanced seasoning with this little nut. Add it with care. You have to taste it, but too much and it becomes inedible."

Hermione shook with laughter, Draco ground, stirred, tasted, and ground some more. His expressions while sampling were adorable to watch; for the first time, she saw not the hard face, nor the sexy one but the youthful appearance. He caught her looking, for the umpteenth time, flashed her his signature grin and rubbed in his belly, signalling it was divine.

She gestured back that she had no idea. A new moment passed between them, despite the distance.

Two hours later, the chime announced it was time for the witches to taste every plate, for the last part they had been told to leave the premises; this way they couldn't guess who's plate it was, using recognition of the presentation.

The room was filled with delicious aromas, and the women moved from plate to dish, tasting and deciding which one was of their choice.

Hermione picked easily out four of them. Harry's was easily recognisable, as he used a familiar seasoning of his Sunday's roast. The dessert perfectly carried out, by someone who did it not for the first time, and the soup, well the man knew his way around the kitchen, as she knew it.

Ron's looked as if the second battle started on his plates, the pudding was presentable, but the soup missed the most essential of flavouring, and his roast, well, she knew it was a roast.

Blaise's had a refined presentation, of someone who found pleasure in serving a plate worthy of a five-star restaurant. She tasted the mix of wine and Italian herbs mix, divinely in the tongue. Hermione would never turn down dinner at Zabini's, after testing his cooking.

Picking out Draco's wasn't easy, but the give away was the stems of oregano she saw him use and now lied on the thin slices as decoration. Personally, she would have added more salt and garlic to the meat, though she didn't blame him for it; this was his first cooking session. His soup was okay, Blaise's way better, as she had picked out the thyme. Clearly one ingredient he didn't tell Draco.

His sticky pudding was sublime. The sauce was perfect of texture and just sugary enough, baking was chemistry, after all, it came solely down to measure with accuracy.

The wizards shuffled nervously, wondering if it tasted ok. In the end, all the girls left the room with the bowls of dessert. In unison, a male sigh was released. Not one witch looked as if they had indigestion. Absolutely not a bad sign.

Draco followed Hermione with his eyes, she licked the spoon, tongue flat over the bulbous side.

"Is it good?"

"It's perfect, for a first timer. This wizard knows his way around a cauldron and potions. This is chemistry made with food, you know."

"May I taste?"

"Wait a second." She dipped her finger in the sticky mass and held it to his mouth.

Opening his lips, he waited for her next move. The finger entered and rested against his tongue. Closing his mouth, he sucked it clean, biting gently in her digit. She pulled it slowly away.

His tongue snaked over his lips, gathering the leftovers. "I'm curious if my witch can seduce me with her culinary talent."

"The way to a man's heart is through his stomach, I believe?"

"I'm not a Weasley."

"You're a man, nonetheless." She dipped her finger on the sauce once more and rubbed it over his lips. "Oh, I see you missed a spot." On the tip of her toes, she inched closer to his face and licked it off with her tongue; finishing with a loud peck on his lips. "All clean now. See you soon?" And wiggled away from him, devouring the rest before Ron would steal her bowl. Draco's dessert was hers exclusively.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a freezer in this chapter, but I advice to have something at hand. Could come useful...
> 
> Oh,yeah. My dear Magzillasaurus used her beta wand to perfect this chapter!

 

**Chapter Ten**

Stuffed with the left-overs from their cooking test, the wizards waited for the witches. This kind of gathering at the end of each event to vent and exchange thoughts was quickly becoming a habit.

Naturally, holding a bag with dishes and eating the scraps, was not the way to occupy a table at the Leaky or any other pub. "Do you want to come over to my place? It's in Muggle London…" Hermione couldn't think of another option besides Grimmauld Place, though they'd done that already. She kept munching on the pudding, in between, fending off Ron  _who just wanted a taste_ from her bowl _._

Pansy faked disgust, "Oh no! Full of Muggle germs."

"Like you're not already contaminated by Hermione's… didn't you snog her last." Ron side-eyed the witch, "You can always take your gang somewhere else… 'Mione, do you have some of that frizzy cola?"

"Ice cold." New spoonful in mouth. "What will we do?" Their little group shrugged in agreement, "Each of you grabs one of us, and we'll side apparate into my home." A pale hand held on to her hand.

-oOo-

The Slytherins were hardly able to take it all in, Hermione's ancestral home overwhelming them. It's was small by their standards, but it radiated warmth and a sense of welcome. The walls well decorated with pictures and other paintings, ornaments all over the cabinets and coffee table.

"What's this box, Granger?" Draco pointed towards the telly.

Grabbing the remote, she turned it on, grinning at the widening eyes. "It's called television."

"Are there little people in there?"

Theo took a look behind the device, "How do they get in? I don't see a door..."

The more the confusion, the more Harry smirked, until he broke into laughter. "Oh, this is good…"

Ron felt proud for once, he knew it already, saving his arse from embarrassment. "No, these are images already saved, and the Muggles send it by cable to the box, right Hermione?"

She nodded, "They shoot a movie or a show in a studio, and then they broadcast it into our television. There are multiple options, called channels; also different types of programs, you have movies which are complete stories, or sitcoms. Think of these shows as if you get a chapter at a time from your book, which is called episode." She flipped until she found BBC News Channel, "My father's favourite: a news channel non-stop. Sort of a live session of the Daily Prophet, with news from all over the world."

Pansy and Luna stopped listening halfway into to Hermione's clarification, the interest had flown away. The Wizards hung at her lips, this cable-issue a fascinating mystery. Theo inquired, "Images and sound? And your moovviees, what are they about?"

"You tell me. There's drama or action with loads of explosion…"

"Or romantic ones, just like our amorous novels..." Ginny added, dreamy.

"About fast cars…" Harry named his favourite.

"Oh, yes that one with the blond police officer and that guy who sold stolen VR's. Harry, I love you, but that guy has a set of arms of this wide." Ginny spaced out her hands.

Ginny's description of Vin Diesel's biceps drew Pansy back into the conversation, "VR's? Granger, can you show us this beefed up guy? I want to confirm Red's assessment." It was as if Pansy woke up all over again.

"I have it, it's Fast and Furious, and Ginny is right, Vin's pecs are yummy… Paul's too if I'm honest, I'm more into lithely built men. Ginny, it's VCRs the video recorders like this one…" She tapped on her black device sitting on the top of the television. "We can have a movie night on another day…"

"'Mione, will you have a box of ice cream for me alone? The one with the cookies in it." Hermione shook her head, Ron and his love for the cookie dough from Ben & Jerry's…

Enlarging the dinner table and conjuring some extra chairs, she saw to it that everyone had a place to sit. Harry and Ginny gave her a hand grabbing plates and cutlery, while Ron cared for the drinks, choosing a bottle of wine. He yelled from her basement, "'Mione, red or white wine?"

Blaise replied the ginger head, joining him downstairs "Red, Weasley. We have red meat." He admired the labels, "'Mione, you have some fancy wines here."

"My father's other hobby," the homesickness showing through her voice, "He collected them from all over the world, even some South African and Chilean ones."

Spreading the warm dishes over the table, Daphne cast a reheating spell over the roasts and the soup. "What happened to your parents, Hermione?"

The brunette exchanged a look with her longtime friends, and a nervous one with Draco, "To keep them safe, I've obliviated them. They live now in Australia, with no recollection of me as their daughter."

Theo asked, "Can't you undo it?"

"I have tried, but I did the job too thoroughly." She took a deep breath, "They are happy where they live. It's my consolation." A hand wove her nostalgia away, "Let's eat. Blaise, your soup smells divine. Did you add thyme?"

"I have, Hermione." The reality of the war and its impact floated around, compassion shining in his dark eyes, and not only his. Calling her by her given name, was no more than his way of showing respect for her difficult decisions. "I love to give all my cooking the Italian touch I learned from nanna."

"I've noticed, and I've tasted it. The woman who catches you will be a lucky girl if you're so kind as to cook often for her." Hermione looked around the table. "Damn, I'm missing something." Blaise huffed, and she corrected herself, "I mean that I'm missing some bread to dip. I'll see if I have some in the freezer."

A quick back and forth trip to her basement later, and she heated a whole loaf in seconds using the proper charm. As for the last touch, she cut it in even chunks, took one and slurped the warm liquid from the bread. Grinning, Harry followed her moves, with his own bowl.

Although Blaise's soup was the best of all, she refused to hurt Draco's feelings and poured some from his stockpot, using the most of her chunk of bread to eat it as she used to do when she was a kid. When her piece was gone, half of his appeared in her sight, and she accepted it with a smile.

But the smile died away. His face showed compassion and regret, none of these emotions something she would associate with the man she used to know. It shook her beliefs to her core.  _Has he always been this way, or is it just a post-war change?_

The fact was, none of the Slytherins had mocked or minimalised her reality. It was as if their respect for her grew exponentially, learning the harsh task she had to perform. They ate for a while in silence.

The soup was traded for the roasts.

"Weasley, has your meat fought in the battle?" Pansy broke the quiet. "I think you should take some of your mother's lessons yourself." The mood shifted one-eigthy degrees.

"I eat, Parkinson." Nonetheless, Ron flushed. "My mother cooks, and I eat."

"Devour instead of eating, would be more correct." Ginny found the perfect moment to tease her brother. "He devours food because our brothers steal it from his plate to be precise."

"That explains the lack of table manners a great deal…" Women flock together when it comes to taunting a man. Pansy was no different, considering it payback for his plan to send her to his mother.

"Fred and George take the easy way and instead of serving themselves some more, they steal what I have," Ron whined, and the women high-fived. Talking about Fred still brought some heartache to both Weasley's, and they shared a moment.

"Your brothers have always been my favourite Weasley's," Draco spoke up with respect. "Hell, when they taught a lesson to Umbridge…"

"Her face, mate, that was oh so good… I hated the witch." Theo jumped in.

"Strange that you sided with her." Hermione reminded him, "What was it called again? The…"

Luna completed, "The Inquisitorial Squad… I would have preferred you were part of our Army, Theo."

"Listen, it's part of a life I regret, Granger. I made the wrong decisions, my eyes were clouded with judgments from someone else. Many of my actions, if I made them now, they would be the opposite of the past. I can't change it." Draco didn't back down, it was the words he needed to say. "Blame it on the ignorant youngster I was. Believe me, a year with a noseless bastard in my house was enough to learn the bitter reality of the dark side."

"I understand…"

"No Granger, I refuse to let you minimise my part. I did what I did with full consciousness of my actions. The reasons were completely fucked up, and when I truly realised the consequences but also it's origin, I couldn't bear to stare at my face in the mirror. I didn't like the face that stared back at me. I can't, however, go back and undo my wrongs. Fuck, I was following a half-blood arse, as if he was the next messiah, proclaiming purebloods were superior. And I bought that shite."

"Are you?"

"What, Granger?"

"Are you superior to others?"

"I'm a Malfoy, first of all. But I'm no better than the Weasley's over there, and if there's someone at this table that forced me to realise how wrong my kind were than it's you." His gaze looked straight into hers, "I can only apologise for my actions, quite a few were done for the right reasons."

"Like what?"

"Try the threat of killing your mother, Granger."

"Not one wizard would have resisted against such a threat, Malfoy." Harry had listened attentively to Draco's passionate reasoning, arms crossed. "If it was my mother… I would have done the same." The man looked at his best friend, "Or am I wrong, Ron?"

The ginger-haired man shook his head, "No. But he's still a git."

"No much different than you, Weaselbee."

"I can live with that." Ron perused the table, "There's no dessert left, is there? The girls munched it all up."

"Ron, the peacemaker if there's food on the table." Harry summed it up.

"I think I have enough ice-cream in the freezer. Let me check it out." Hermione was out of her chair before anyone could stop her, heading to the basement. Alone she released a shaky sight, drying some tears before she got caught.

"Don't cry for me, Granger. I don't deserve your tears." She jumped in the air, utterly unaware of Draco approaching her.

"It's not for you." She opened the chest freezer, diving inside to search for the right basket. She fished a few pints out of the bottom, piling them up on the edge of the appliance. As she piled them, they disappeared out of sight.

Draco moved them somewhere else and using his wand to add a cooling stasis charm. "Another creative Muggle invention, storage under freezing temperatures. We need to renew the spells…"

"Yeah, Muggles are smarter than first thought, you know." The door closed with a bang, and she leaned against the whole machine, hands on the top of the lid. He turned her around, forcing her to look at him. His eyes roamed over her features, stopping at her nose, red from the cold. His thumb dried the last resisting wetness under her gaze while cradling her face in his hands.

Her lips were cold at first touch, but he warmed hers in seconds, claiming her mouth in a searing kiss. Her palms crushed his shirt in her grasp, keeping him close to her. Crouching slightly, he picked her up, sat her on the top of the freezer, inserting himself between her legs, that closed around his waist in a vice hold.

Their tongues battled, hands roamed over each others body. Holding his neck tightly, while the other felt his powerful heartbeat under her palm. His own, stroking her back, her tights, over her side, the outline of her breast, back to her face. Moans swallowed by the other, hair a mess from the fingers ranking through the tresses.

She pulled away, panting; he possessed her back, a hand on the lower back pulling her against his groin, rubbing his arousal against her core.

"Are you making the ice cream, Hermione? Do you need help?" Ginny's voice served as an ice cold shower, breaking the two apart as if stung by a hex.

"I'll be up…" Hermione cleared her throat while shoving Draco away from her, who kept peppering her face and neck with kisses. The trademark smirk shining brightly. "...give me a sec, Ginny." Hermione needed two hands on his pecs to push him off, "Stop it, git."

"Ah, you learned your lesson already. Good girl." He sounded smug, "Though, when the time comes, I prefer to hear you scream my name."

"Ferret, I believe."

He caught her bottom lip, sucked and nipped it. "My lovely swot, try once more."

"Which another name then? Ferret and Git are already said. Wanker? Overbearing?" The smug man was on her now, pursed lips included. Dead-panned, as in a moan, "Draco."

Groaning, he put his burden away, whisked her to him and kissed her deeply. "You'll be the death of me, Hermione." They barely moved ten steps forward, "I don't want to go home tonight. We have unfinished business."

"True, my cooking test, the job shadowing and finally, me ogling these..." Patting his abs, "During the pageant." It was her turn to rotate him, hitting his arse, "Move your booty before they send Pansy down to pick us up."

She could barely believe her eyes, but he followed her instructions meekly. Who knew?


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: eat before you read, don't come complain about hunger.
> 
> As always, my Magzillasaurus cleaned up this chapter but left the pieces of eggshell behind *wink*
> 
> Your lovely (and funny) reviews make me want to write faster... *hint*

 

**Chapter Eleven**

The night bled into a movie one. Hermione conceded into popping the videotape inside the player and telling everyone to make themselves comfortable around her living room, a bowl of ice cream in everyone's lap.

The introduction scene of The Fast and the Furious with the flashy black cars in a truck pursuit, was a real eye-opener and captivated nearly everyone, the first timers and the regular viewers alike. Harry had Ginny curled half on his lap, both eating from the same bowl, though it's content wasn't equally shared. He enjoyed the speeding cars, she ogled all the male beauty, wiggling her eyebrows at Hermione during the first real confrontation between Dom and Brian outside the Toretto's shop.

Theo sat on the shaggy carpet, Luna curled between his legs, the witch feeding her wizard spoonfuls of chocolate ice cream. He had trouble following the story, distracted by her actions. Luna noticed foremostly the details that didn't matter to the rest.

Blaise and Ron's eyes were glued to the screen - the majority of time; both sitting with two witches between them, Pansy and Daphne. Ron dropped a look at the girl next to him. Uneasy at times, he wasn't like Blaise in any form: the ever sweet talker, the womaniser that had put his arm around Daphne's seat, stealthily.

He tried to copy Blaise's smooth move, but Pansy caught him halfway, and he retreated the arm as if he was scratching his hair. Harry noticed it, shaking his head at the clumsy attempt… Ron and seduction, not a success story. The witch, however, compensated by inching closer; if a scene was more intense, she would put her hand on his thigh, and Ron would sit straighter.

If Ron had paid more attention to Draco's moves, he would have learned quite a lot.

Hermione enlarged the one-seater, Draco sitting next to her. As the movie went on, Hermione rested more and more against the blond, who slowly but certainly had managed to put his arm around her waist and pull her closer. What surprised the rest more, was them sharing a bowl of the cookie dough ice cream, the last pint Hermione claimed before Ron could steal both cartons. Somehow along the way, Draco ditched his spoon to use hers, and even feed her, Hermione opening her mouth on autopilot.

One would consider this cosy.

-oOo-

*Cooking Test part Two: the witches*

Very unlike the wizards, the room was filled with chatter between the ladies, a few wizards pointing out that  _if you closed your eyes, it was just the cackling inside a henhouse._

The introductory speech from Molly was way shorter than for the men, as all the girls were ready behind the benches, aprons around their waists, hands thoroughly washed. On the first row, the gang: Daphne on the right of Ginny, then Hermione on her left, with Pansy on her other side, Luna and last was Tracey. The Slytherins didn't beg for help, but came pretty close, as this was their very first introduction to cooking, Ginny and Hermione prompted into being their guides.

Hermione arrived, a large bag around her shoulder, and unloaded her cargo: a glass of wine, and its corresponding bottle of white, and as very last, her boombox. All purebloods eyed the strange looking black device, much the opposite of the half-blood and muggle born wizards. Hermione felt obliged to explain, "This is a box that plays music, my choice of music. I can't cook without it."

Harry inquired aloud, "That thing needs electricity, 'Mione."

"I've tweaked it." A shoulder shrug followed the cheeky grin. Popping the bottle of wine open, she poured some and sipped. "Hmmm, heavenly good."

"I get the music, witch. But the wine?" Pansy felt foremostly jealous, itching for a glass herself.

Luckily, Hermione foresaw the issue, and accioed the remaining ones out of her bag, sharing the bottle equally and handing them over to her best and her newest friends, "Cooking with a good glass is my other thing."

"Nice gesture, but now you're out of wine." Daphne had just done speaking as Hermione flashed the neck of a new bottle peeping out of her bag.

Ginny declared, "This girl and her extension charms? A perfect combo. Plus, she never forgets her feather-light charm." She pecked the brunette's cheek, "Thanks, sis."

"Hermione dear, have you finished unpacking?"

A new cheeky grin and Molly continued, "We all know why we are here, so I only need to reveal today's menu: Sautéed scallops with mushrooms and spinach, chicken and mushroom puff pie, and bread and butter pudding."

"Granger, what are scallops?"

"Seafood."

"Seafood as in fish?"

"Sort of, Pansy. Outside they look like oysters, but different on the inside."

"Bullocks, my hands will reek after fish…" Harry almost felt compassion for the Slytherin Princess. Almost.

Molly set the masses into motion with a clap of her hands.

"Ginny, we should start with what? Both need the oven, right?" Hermione conferred with her neighbour.

"The bread pudding needs cooling off. The puff pie should be served warm, I think we start best like the guys, dessert first." List in hands Ginny led the group towards the display.

A few minutes later, they were all back, each Slytherin copying meticulously every move. Stretching her arms, Hermione cracked her fingers, fired up the boombox with Britney's 'Baby one more time.' One last sip and she got the party started.

Ginny and Hermione bounced waists against each other, dancing at the up-tempo beats of Britney's song.

"Granger." A few minutes later, the first tap on her shoulder, "The milk, the vanilla seeds and the cream are in here. How do I heat this?"

Hermione showed how the oven top worked, "Keep stirring until you see bubbles. Stop it then." Pansy stirred for dear life, "Not so fast, or it will never heat." The stirring slowed down. A questioning look received an approving nod.

Next step: the eggs. Hermione broke hers knowingly into the next jug. In the corner of her eye, Pansy added the eggs as a whole. "Parkinson, what are you doing?" The girl was whisking it together with the sugar.

"Don't you see? It says to whisk the eggs and the sugar. I have no idea what a yolk is."

Hermione slapped the palm against her forehead, "Give me patience!" Luckily she still had one egg to do, "See how I do it. Light tick against the jug, spread it with the tips of your fingers and voila."

Pansy copied, and so did Daphne, but the raven-haired witch let her shells fall into the sugar. Disgusted, she picked the halves with the tips of her fingers, scrunching her face. Daphne did a cleaner job, altogether.

"Now the yolk, break an egg in a small cup, and spoon the yellow core into your mix."

"My fingers are glued together." Pansy spread her digits open, the egg-white acting as glue.

"Wash them later, Pansy."

"Disgusting." Under much directing from Hermione, Pansy finally succeeded in putting the batter into the oven, slowing down the other witches progress.

"The roast!"

"Yes, Captain Weasley." The tunes of Lou Bega's Mambo No. 5 filled the room, and both girls didn't resist following the mambo-jazz song's dance steps. They giggled freely.

While the others rushed towards the display to pick the ingredients, Hermione's last task for her dessert was cleaning some strawberries and setting them apart as the finishing touch. The figurative crumbles so to speak, make it easier for Draco to find her cooking.

-oOo-

"Is this normal behaviour, Potter?" Draco couldn't take his eyes away from Hermione, joy radiated from her. Every now and then, she sipped from her wine.

"All the time. It was Hermione who taught Ginny to dance this way, now whenever they find the time, they bounce around the whole place. She's happy when she dances, Malfoy. No worries, no nasty memories. Completely content."

-oOo-

"Granger, is this also part of cooking? Wiggling your hips this way." Pansy's biggest piff was not them dancing, rather her not knowing how to join in.

Hermione pointed at her own chest, "Me, muggleborn." Finger stabbed into Pansy's, "You, Pureblood."

"What do you mean, Granger?"

"I mean, my mother danced around the house. She and I cooked together while enjoying a good song and a drink. This feels like good old times."

Daphne's shoulders dropped, "Our mothers forced us into ballet."

Hermione waved a hand away, "Please, don't remind me. Back straight! Chin in the air! Pain is good! Stand on your toes!"

"Shoulders stiff!" Daphne added.

Pansy spoke between the giggles, "You have the grace of a goblin! You have to move like a swan, Miss Parkinson!"

"What will your mother say, Miss Davies!"

"To hell with ballet lessons." Hermione rose her glass, the salute copied by all. Step by step she showed the dance steps from the mambo and repeated the last number, the other witches falling slowly into the rhythm.

-oOo-

"She's amazing."

"Yes, one-of-a-kind." Harry's surprised with Draco's adoration.

"You don't get it. She could mock them, rub it even more how much more free her childhood was compared to our witches. Instead, she's…"

"Teaching your Slytherin girls how to dance. Malfoy, meet Hermione." In the meantime, Harry grinned at his Ginny, who wiggled her hips seductively.

"Have mercy on us, you get to take your woman home and shag her senseless."

"Hmm." Harry side-eyed the blond, "In time, you'll have your chance."

"I suggested dinner another night. She wouldn't have it."

"That's also Hermione. Following her own set of rules, unless she's forced to break them for the greater good." It came from Ron. His eyes were glued to Pansy, it was funny to see her fumble, but at the same time, he wanted to help her. He knew how to make an omelette, at least, he could have broken the eggs for her. "I can't send her to my mum, she'll wither away."

"Weaselbee, what are you saying?"

"Pansy can't cook, she can't even break an egg."

"Well, yes. Teaching a woman to be the perfect Pureblood wife doesn't include cooking lessons." Draco reasoned, watching Hermione add the bacon to the pan, dancing to the rhythm of the next song. He could already picture them, cooking their meal together in their own kitchen.  _I'm becoming a Hufflepuff with these domestic thoughts_.

She was nibbling on a carrot, flashing him a smile while biting into it. It was the barbecue all over again. "Mate, if I were you, I wouldn't let her close to your  _wand_. She likes to bite through." Blaise cringed at the thought.

"You worry too much."

A yell came from Pansy's bench, as the witch forgot a pan could be as hot as a cauldron above the fire. Hermione held the injured finger under the water, restraining a smirk. Pansy returned to her job, digit stuck in the air, luckily it was her pinky.

-oOo-

The pie was in the oven, Hermione relieved that the puff pastry had been made upfront - it was a tricky thing to prepare. The aromas coming from within made her hungry and eased her mind,  _yummy, delicious_.

The dreadful last course, the scallops, was the one dish Hermione didn't look forward to preparing. Eating it was great, but to make it:  _bah_. She agreed with Pansy, there were nicer jobs out there. Luckily, the shells were already open.

"Yuck, this is so revolting." Pansy gagged, but Daphne, Luna and Tracey looked nauseated as well.

"You know what they say about scallops?" With decisive movements, Hermione demonstrated how to separate the spongy white meat from its nest. The others copied, with eyes closed.

"No, amuse us." Pansy's face wrinkled from disgust.

"It's a hell of an aphrodisiac." Hermione dried her forehead on her sleeve, sighing in contempt now the dirty task was done, "From now on, we use the tongs." The brunette's hands received a thorough wash with Harry's metallic soap bar.

"Great, I'll walk around horny, without a wizard to scratch the itch. Let me thank Mrs. Weasley for my frustration." Borrowing the bar, the skin of Pansy's hands was scrubbed until it looked red.

"Memorise it for future use, Parkinson. It might come in handy, you know." A wiggle of eyebrows.

Pansy and Daphne fried the mushrooms from afar, one arm in the air as if they were duelling, spatulas in the opposite hands against the spatters.

"Aaargh."

"Fuck."

"Merlin's balls."

Tracey exchanged chuckles with the other girls, frying was not so strange compared to the rest. Out in the stands, the laughter was more mocking than desired.

With arms outstretched, the mushrooms were dropped into a waiting dish, and the pan reused to fry the spinach.

"Merlin, it looks like Harry's hmmm," Molly passed by at that moment, and Ginny waited until the coast was clear, "His thing shrinks this fast after a good shag." Ginny's associated the thought with the sight of the spinach leaves shrinking into little pieces. Speechless at first, a roaring of laughter broke out. They all stared at the said wizard, who looked confused at the sudden interest.

Pansy shook her head between the giggles, "They all do, honey. Not only your Harry." Hermione couldn't avoid a wicked look at Draco. The Slytherin witch whispered in her ear, "Yes, him too."

-oOo-

Finding the dish from a certain witch was less easy than the other way around. Harry only found Ginny's thanks to the mix of herbs she often used at home. With the rest, the presentation looked as if they were paintings. Ron only found Pansy's by accident, the dessert not as steady as it should be, and after a taste, a bit crunchy. It seemed some bits of the eggshell had remained behind.

Draco knew what to look for. The strawberries. Once his eye caught the food, he sent killer looks at everyone who wanted to taste. It wasn't delicious. It was divine. He could basically picture their lives from now on,  _she cooks, he assists, the elf cleans_.

He had to agree, the best way to a man's heart does run through his stomach. In his case, it concluded the business.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's hot where I live, way too hot for the time of the year. I need autumn weather, pumpkin soup and leaves falling off the trees instead of men wearing shorts and short sleeves.
> 
> As a result, I'm raising up the heat. Use your Antartica ticket, the freezer or whatever you need to cool down. The heat is on. *Slytherin grin*
> 
> Btw, my Magzillasaurus did once more an amazing job at beta read!

 

**Chapter Twelve**

This time, their gathering place was at Blaise's Manor, his mother was living in Italy with her newest husband, the son losing count of which number he it was.

"Granger, tell me again, are these scallops an aphrodisiac?"

Shaking her head with a sigh, Hermione answered Pansy, lightly condescending, "Yes, they fit in the row like mussels and oysters." She pursed her lips naughtily, contemplating a lecture, "According to studies, they earned their reputation in Ancient Greece, and this has been confirmed by a recent Muggle study. It increases the levels of sexual hormones." Her lecture was for once not ignored, all very much interested in the subject.

"Harry, love, from now on, every Saturday night, it's scallops on the menu."

"Red, do you only shag your bloke on Saturday?"

"Blaise, no, during weekday's it's the short version. Saturday is more an elaborate session."

Harry cut his in two and fed it to Ginny, "Here, sweetie, we'll add an exceptional edition tonight."

Pansy scrapped the rest of her seafood into Ron's plate, "Darling, get used to the taste." He flushed but ate it meekly, while she eyed the progress, "The end justifies the means, Ron, I'll deal with the stinky business, one way or the other."

He shrugged, "It's food."

"Good boy, now eat it all up." She almost pat him in the head.

Hermione found the whole scene rather funny, suspecting that Ron didn't give a single care about sexually enticing food. By the multiple looks Ron gave to Pansy's cleavage, thinking he wasn't being watched, Hermione expected no problems on that front. A wiggle of her hips and Ron would follow Pansy like a puppy.

Draco evaluated the amount of seafood on both plates and divided it equally. His libido did not need a push, her choice of underwear worked just as nicely, as he discovered after their little encounter. Rilling her up was, however, pleasure-enhancing. "Granger, I believe in man and woman equality. I don't want you to feel mistreated."

"Do you know, Malfoy...for these to have their maximum effect, they should be consumed raw. Cooking destroys a little of their efficiency." She cut hers in two and munched on it with languid movements. "Hmm, de-li-ci-ous."

Blaise inquired, "Is it only seafood that works that way? Did your muggle study tell more?"

Daphne rolled her eyes, "Oh dear, are you concerned with your performance between the sheets? There are potions to help a wizard, you know? I heard my mum once tell her friends about it…"

It woke Pansy's curiosity, "Do tell… I bet you were eavesdropping."

"Pans, of course. Can you imagine  _my mother_  talking freely about  _my father_ 's lack of performance in  _my presence_?" All the purebloods laughed with the image.

"Granger, please lecture us for once, you have our permission." Pansy was being full Slytherin.

Hermione accepted the challenge, sitting comfortably, "Take notes, Parkinson. I guess the Wizarding world doesn't talk freely about such subjects."

"What do you mean?" Daphne was stunned.

"I haven't yet walked into a sex shop inside our community. Allow me to go naughtier, but a porn movie, does it ring a bell?" One was having fun, the majority was getting redder by the minute. No one, however, interrupted Hermione. "Is there such thing as wizarding porn magazines?"

Blaise cleared his throat, "Those we have...with moving pictures…" He spoke between coughing. Draco faced his plate, to admit he stole one or two from his father in his youth, was a step too far.

"Now, imagine a movie where nothing is left to the imagination."

Ron's mouth dropped, "Muggles have that?" Pansy smacked him in the head. He winced.

"Pansy, wrong move. My mother was very open with me about these things. One day she confessed that she and my dad played out one of those scenes. As she told me once that inside a healthy marriage, and with mutual consent, roleplay can spice things up." She grinned at the memory, "I have to admit, my mother might have been tipsy when she told me this. I didn't need the visual of my parents tumble between the sheets."

The chuckles were timid, purebloods and talk freely about sex was definitely another no-go.  _Muggles were the inferior species, my arse_ , thought Hermione.

As the bravest of all snakes, Pansy fished after more about those shops, "What do you find in those dot dot dot stores, Granger?"

"Dot dot dot? Shit, Pansy, it's sex stores, the word doesn't bite." By the look of things, even to Ginny, it seemed the case. "All sorts of really naughty lingerie, on a totally different level than Victoria's. What else? Ahum, sex toys for him and her, movies…"

The clinging of cutlery had stilled, the food was forgotten except for Ron, who kept eating until his plate was empty.

"Will you take us there?" Theo, who had been silent the whole time, adventured to request assistance.

"It's one thing is to talk about it, another to actually take you with me. I can show you where is one, but forgive me if shopping in your company is a step too far." It was Hermione's turn to blush. "I don't have the balls for that."

"We can go together, Theo" Luna suggested, "Hermione's mum said, with mutual consent, it's okay to roleplay. Expand our knowledge of human nature and its basest needs."

Blaise and Draco looked as slack-jawed as Theo did, none of the wizards expecting so much forwardness. "Hermione, what kind of roleplay is it? Do you perform it naked, the Wiccan way or...?"

"Luna, my mother didn't tell me the specifics, only mentioned it." A new sip from her water, to regain composure. "I'll point you out the location of the one I know, and the rest is up to you."

Pansy poked, "You know about that shoppe because you entered it, I presume? What did you buy?"

"Can we speak about something else? We should heat up the pie." Hermione felt in the hot seat, all of a sudden.

Draco sat the fork down, after his last bite, "Don't change the subject, now it's getting interesting. What did you buy at that place? A sexy bra?"

"No...wearing that kind of lingerie isn't rewarding without a partner." She kept busy with setting the pie dishes on the table and flicking her wand.

"Do tell?" Ginny was figuratively all ears. "Our question hasn't been answered yet."

"Love, what did you buy at that place?" Draco drew circles in Hermione's lower back, whispering in her ear, "Concerning a partner, you have that, one word from you and I'm at your service."

The audience felt shocked looking from one to the other, Draco and his offer a new revelation. He was unmistakably ready to skip everything and tackle the essential. She stammered, "I...oh god…"

Harry gave her the last nudge, "Where's your Gryffindor courage, Hermione?"

She squirmed, "Gawww," Draco's fingers kept rubbing, the tips caressing the curving edge of her arse. She flushed completely but confessed with a whisper, "I bought a little toy…"

"What does it do?" It wasn't clear if Pansy was asking it to mock or out of personal interest.

All pairs of eyes stared at Hermione only increasing her discomfort. She burst, "It buzzes alright? It's a little buzzing thing that vibrates." With a scrap of the chair, she left the table running down the hall.

Harry sighed, "We pushed her too far…"

"We didn't want to embarrass her, we were curious…" Pansy felt remorse, for it wasn't her intention at all. For a moment, she feared to look at Ron and see his reaction.

He surprised her, though, "I know, Park-Pansy. I guess the subject appeals to our curiosity and, while it wasn't our purpose, we upset her."

-oOo-

In the meantime, Draco caught up with her and pushed her into the nearest set of doors, a guest room by the looks of it. "Come here."

"Leave me alone, Malfoy."

"Call me Draco, Hermione. We're beyond that point." Neglecting her request, he brought her into the circle of his arms, pushing her head against his shoulder.

Her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths, fighting off the urge to cry.

He kissed the top of her head, his big hands soothing her back, "It was not our intent to make you uncomfortable. You were correct, talking about sex is probably a bigger taboo than speaking the name of Dark L-, I mean, Voldemort out loud." A new kiss in her hair, "You made us curious, and for me personally, I can't wait for you to guide me into one of those places and tell me all you know."

"I don't know all of it." It sounded muted, she spoke into his chest.

"But you know some, right?" He felt her nod. "Will you tell me what this friend of yours does?" Hermione hid her face deeper in the curve of his neck. "I want to know what it does, so I can give you the same pleasure." She moaned, his voice low and husky, "It buzzes you said?" A new nod, "Where does it touch you, when it vibrates?" He didn't rub her back anymore, he pressed her against his body, showing her exactly what their talk was doing to him.

Her hands snaked around his neck, pressing herself tighter against him. "Do you let it buzz here?" A feather-light touch of a thumb over her nipple. A gasp and a no were shaken. He walked them back to a large settee, sat down and pushed her into straddling his lap. His hands pushed the fabric of her skirt, until it draped primarily behind her back, legs almost exposed and her knickers visible. He pushed her arse into rubbing against him. Eyes never leaving hers for longer than a few seconds.

"To where do you bring your little friend?" His voice dropped a few octaves, "Show it to me." Hermione took his hand and guided it to her apex, directing his thumb to her nub. "It buzzes here?" A new nod, panting. Not needing more guidance, he gyrated the digit over the fabric, and she responded with the arching of her hips.

His free hand curved around her face and brought close enough to his mouth, lips demanding hers with fervour. The thumb snaked around her knickers and was applying the perfect pressure. She moaned into his mouth, hips jerking at each spark. "Open your blouse for me, I want to hide my face in your tits." Hermione followed promptly, revealing a flimsy sheer layer of lace covering her breasts, the nipples fully erect. Draco inhaled her perfume, a mix of flowers and something specific to Hermione. His tongue flicked between the valley.

She pushed off him, long enough to take her knickers off, the fabric frustrating her more than anything. Draco helped her return to her previous position but snaking his hand now in a way so that his other fingers could play with her entrance. A wet spot adorned his trousers, right where her core met his cock. "May I?"

Her nod came and immediately one finger sought entrance, followed by a second, snaking in and out of her soaking quim. She held him tighter, the jolts of electricity taking her senses away. He drank her in, how she blushed of arousal and how her breasts made him hungry for a taste. He pushed her blouse away, lowered the lace under her mounds and snaked his arm around her waist, to give him more grip. His lips latched on a perky nipple, and she screamed, head back. "Hermione, you're so beautiful…" He released her breast only long enough to utter the words that rose in him, seeing her surrender to his ministrations.

He increased the pace of his thrusting fingers, the pressure of his thumb circling around her clit and his teeth nibbled on a nipple between suckles. Hermione humped against him, overtaken by shockwave after shockwave. "Draco."

"That's it, love. Say my name, princess, say it."

Hermione's nails dug half-moons in his back, hips jerking erratically, mewling. Demanding his mouth in a heat-searing kiss, her tongue tasted his, passionately, moans consumed by him. "Draco...oh, god...Draco." She whispered into his lips, feeling the coil tighten in her belly, becoming too much. She tensed against him and fell over the edge with a cry when he rubbed her spongy spot inside.

He couldn't get enough of her, her pussy squeezing his fingers in a vice hold riding out every ripple, her arms crushing around his neck, while she kept whispering his name into her ear. "Fuck, you're beautiful Hermione." Her fire subdued; she sought support in his arms. Licking his fingers off, he encased her face in his hands and kissed her gently, thanking her for her trust in him.

She wasn't ready to hear the words, that much he knew. But her submission told him enough, she wasn't the type of woman for meaningless sex left and right. This happened because she accepted him as much as he did her, even if she wanted to wait for the blasted pageant before allowing anything else.

She wasn't the only one who submitted, not that she saw it that way. Never had he run after Pansy or other bints to comfort, to soothe. He was allergic to female whining, full stop. Hermione losing her wits brought out the side in him he only witnessed his father capable of if it was directed at his mother. Defend her, protect her, comfort her.

"You're…" Hermione spoke low, slowly coming back to the living world.

"Don't worry, it's not important."

"Draco, it is. You have to let me do for you, what you did for me."

"No, that's for another time." He didn't get enough of stroking her curly hair, so soft to touch.

"Please… I'll feel bad if I don't return the favour." Her hips undulated over his erection, still very much alive, despite his allegations. "Please…"

Lowering to the floor, she set her body between his legs, pushing a cushion under her knees for better comfort; she unhooked the belt, and pushed down the zipper. He stopped her movements until her pleading gaze met his. It became his turn to surrender, slamming his head back and, from under his lashes, watch her small hands uncover his cock from its tented confinement.

Tongue circled the head, testing the waters before she took him in as far as possible before the discomfort. Hermione pulled back, licked the trail of saliva from the top and dipped again, over and over, his hips rising in synch. A gentle hand shoved a bunch of tresses away, so he had the full view of her plump lips around his girth. Going down, she did it with her eyes closed, coming up was with her gaze fixed in his, reading the arousal in those grey orbs.

He rose his hips to shove the pants and trunks below the knees to give her full access, leading her free hand to his balls, invitingly. She took the clue and massaged one and the other, rubbing the spot right behind it. He grunted in approval, jerking his hips higher than desired. "Sorry, love." He wasn't far from the point of no return, panting and grunting, switching between watching the whole scene and slamming his head back in surrender.

Hermione tested her limits, relaxing her throat enough to take him fully in her hot mouth. "Fuck, Hermione...that feels...oh fuck." Three or four more dips and he spilt his seed with a growl. "Let me please…" She relented the control over to him, and he fucked her mouth while the hot spurts kept coming, Hermione swallowing all he had to offer. Now it was her who was in awe of him all flushed, the blond Adonis thoroughly satisfied thanks to her. She had never felt so feminine before as she did now.

Him, this pleased? Yes, she wanted to do it all over again. For the first time, she cursed the pageant, but luckily, it was their last official hurdle. Because unofficially, she knew what her heart wanted.

Someone that she never considered, in the first place. At all.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun writing this one too... My Magzillasaurus beta-read this for you also!
> 
> I forgot to post chapter twelve on sunday, so you're getting the double fun today, sorry...

**Chapter Thirteen**

The fact that they were absent for more than a half hour was ignored.

Also ignored, the satisfied look on both their faces, like cats that got to the cream.

Additionally ignored, the arm Draco draped over Hermione's shoulder upon return, or he pushing her chair back, according to the etiquette. Out of nowhere, two plates with pie appeared, the heating charms were recast, and everyone began to eat, leaving the previous subject to float in the air and, and guess what? Also ignored.

"Granger, a question. Do muggles dance in public places, or did you and your mum only dance at home?"

Pansy's question was a safe icebreaker, and Hermione answered with pleasure. "We have pubs and bars where we drink and dance."

Blaise was entirely interested, "Oh, just like that? You go to this place and you…"

"You look for an empty table, order a drink and dance when the beat pleases you, yes." The answer came between bites, this pie was one Hermione would do again at home, now she knew a decent recipe. "My mum and dad took me to one or two, also to a place where they do quizzes."

Daphne had finished as first, "Quizzes?"

"Well, you know, questions about movies, or music… let me think, imagine a quiz night about Quidditch."

Ron spoke with his mouth full, "We need that!"

"Be my guest, Ron. I'm not organising that…"

Harry was shaking his head, "You're not the person to do it, you hate the sport."

"Why did you watch it then, Hermione?" Draco couldn't comprehend the idea of Hermione in the stands supporting, a witch that hated the sport. The fact he addressed her by her given name, wasn't lost on the others either.

"For the moral support. There was this annoying seeker on the green team, that kept pushing Harry off of his broom. While I boo'ed at the git, I cheered for my buddy, like a good friend." Her shoulder rose in a typical Hermione shrug. Harry loved the jab, Draco silently promised revenge at a later time.

"Aside from those q&a's that give my brain a headache up front, you can really go to a pub and dance?"

"It's Thursday today, yes, nearly everywhere. I know a place, called Amber Bar in Downtown Muggle London." Her eyes ran over all the faces around the table, "You want to go?" All nods, "How many are we?" She counted heads quickly, "Let me call them upfront, to be sure there's room for our group."

"You mean owl, right Granger?" Theo corrected her, Luna's face lit with the prospect of dancing and damn if he wouldn't give her the pleasure. At the moment he felt jealous of his best friend Draco, who had clearly dipped in the cream bowl.

Harry smirked, "No, she really means to call them. Use the mobile for it. Do you have the number?"

Hermione was already calling the enquiries for the correct telephone number, taking notes of the digits the operator dictated. Moments and a second phone call later, she was beaming, "We're lucky today. There was a late cancellation, and they have a free booth for us. As soon as you want to leave…"

"Muggle London, where precisely, Hermione?"

"Harry, it's not far from Aldgate." Luckily they both knew an apparition point, not far away from the area.

-oOo-

The interior was a cultural shock to the majority, followed by the number of people dancing in party outfits with colourful wigs and boas.

"I forgot to tell you, they are holding this throwback party with music from the 80's, as you can see from the outfits." Hermione sought forgiveness, sheepishly.

"Granger, do you have any understanding of what they are wearing?"

"Some Pansy. Remember, I was born in '79, by the time I joined you in Hogwarts first year, the dress code had changed. But if we play this right, we can improve ours with the flick of a wand, right?"

Daphne suggested, "Can we use the ladies room?"

With almost military precision, the girls followed in line Hermione's lead, the door magically locked against Muggle intrusion.

"I want a colourful tutu dress like that bint upstairs in her flashy pink." Pansy knew what she wanted, Luna making her wish to happen seconds later. The result was a small fitting dress with large letterings, neon green fishnet gloves, leg-warmers in flashy pink and an oversized zebra head bow. A rainbow of colours.

"Hermione, I saw a woman with that bathing suit over skinny pants…"

"You mean a leotard with leggings and the legwarmers. Which colour, Ginny?"

"Flashy." Hermione knew just which to use. Seconds later, Ginny wiggled around in black and red leo printed bodysuit, flashy green leggings, white leg-warmers and purple heels.

"Red, change my shoes too, will you. I want something like yours…" All eyes turned to Hermione, the last one to switch, as Daphne was similarly dressed as Pansy, but less flashy coloured. Hermione chose for a fancy retro dress, with small straps, tutu skirt, and a huge lace bow on the top, a bit of a Madonna look. The fishnet tights and gloves finished the outfit. Luna went for a  _let's get physical_  dressing, crop top and leggings included, in every flashy colour she could think of.

The men changed into everyday denim and shirts, but slack-jawed at the unusual sight the women formed upon entrance. Theo asked Harry quietly to change his outfit into something that would match Luna's.

Harry side-eyed the witches' choices, "You're sure about that?"

"I don't want her to feel out of place, please, Potter." Harry demanded a silent confirmation but complied by changing Theo's mainstream clothes into a horrendous coloured tracksuit. Hideous, but who was Harry to deny him? Luna brightened up immediately.

Hermione whispered, "A match made in the heaven of the eighties." She didn't want to offend, but it was ghastly. "It's like he's a bum…"

"This is not the Theo we know." Daphne was stunned.

"Granger, you told me a few weeks ago, we do everything for love…" Pansy pointed at the two, who were giggling like teenagers, joining the dancing floor to bounce at the tune of Whitney's  _I want to dance with somebody_. Theo was completely off the beat but Luna, in her own dreamy way, succeeded into dancing with grace. Pansy finished, "This looks like love, to me…"

"If you ask me to change into such an outfit, the deal is off." Draco admired Hermione's choice, the net stockings giving her legs that extra long look. Despite their little thing earlier, he felt a new wave of arousal rise.

"Which deal?"

"You, me, our little joint-venture that we still have to discuss the terms of."

"Ohwa,  _Malfo_ y _._  Hold your hippogriff, we're not discussing anything at the moment."

"I know,  _Granger._  But, after next week, we will."

"Someone is certain of himself… what if next week I see another wizard that appeals to my...taste?"

"Repeat those words, and I'll have to bend you over my lap and teach you some manners…" His grey eyes spitfire, "You're mine, witch."

"There are two ways to argue with a witch. Neither of them works, sweetie. Pans, lets hit the dance floor!" She received a salute from the witch, while Draco was still recovering from her witty comeback.

Harry patted him on the back, probably with more force than needed, "Some things might change eh Malfoy, but others don't…"

-oOo-

"Granger!" Pansy felt like a fish out of water, "How do I dance this?"

"Close your eyes." The other girl followed promptly, surprising Hermione with the trust she received. "Now let your body swing."

Lionel Richie's  _All night long_  barked from the speakers. Reluctantly, Pansy shoved from left to right, testing the waters. Her hand was grabbed by a stranger, also in a hideous tracksuit. "Let me do the honours." A light pull later, and Pansy was spinning around the dancing floor, panicked glances quickly morphing into delighted ones. The man knew how to shake it and was teaching her the basics, alright.

On the side, Ron was getting redder than his hair. "What kinda wizard are you if you stand by idly and see your woman be seduced by the next loser?" Hoping to earn some points later from his witch, Draco pushed the ginger head into the dancing floor. "You owe me one now, Weasel."

The push made Ron bump into the said stranger, and, using the momentum, he glared deadly at the man, "She's taken, buzz off."

"Hey, I was having fun…" With her two hands, Pansy pushed into Ron's chest, pouting.

"No bum puts his paws on my girl." It came out braver than he felt, this dancing thing was so out of his league. Paying close attention to his best friend, who was spinning Ginny expertly around the room, he copied the moves, alas as clumsy as could be. Harry noticed it, slowed down his pace and nearly gave a step-by-step guide. Pansy wasn't stupid, but with her nose facing the adorable way Ron copied Harry - focus on full power - it forced her to bite back a snide remark and actually follow Ginny's steps; after all, she knew as much about dancing to the groovy sound, as the wizard in her arms.

Pansy's previous dancing partner sought a way to steal her back; however, the woman made sure it remained only a thought.

Draco had more feeling for a rhythm - his obligatory, yet wholeheartedly hated, classical dancing lessons turned out to be more useful than ever. Not that he would thank his parents for the fact, he had cursed them for it, multiple times in the past.

Also, he paid attention to the blokes around him, picking a move or two, and as the song bled into  _Dancing in the dark_ , he snaked Hermione into his circle and shook - or tried to bounce a better description - his hips at the up-tempo beat. She laughed at him, but dutifully showed him the mechanics of swinging your hips decently.

Expertly, he swung her over the floor, pulled her back twirling, arms coming around her frame to press her back against his chest. In sync with the beat, she wiggled her hips against his, slithering down and up again. "You're playing with fire, witch."

"I'm not afraid of getting burned." Releasing herself, Hermione joined the few single dancers in the arm swinging moves and thumping with the knees, as she remembered the Boss's performance on one of many dancing clips. Hair flew everywhere, smoothly, as free as she felt. Draco just stood there, marvelling at her joy, and at the same time, stunned about who she turned out to be compared to who he thought her to be.

The DJ recessed the uptempo by inserting a slow,  _for the lovers among the audience_. Arms surrounded necks, hands held onto waists, faces leaned against shoulders, breathes mingling in sync with heartbeats.

The one couple as if they did nothing else all day long, regardless if it was, or not, their very first time, notwithstanding if their friendship was years old; the other clumsily finding a pace, uneasy. To the point that the woman took control and became the leader.

A pair danced in their familiar way, following the trust they in each other, after years of sharing love and suffering.

And then, you had the couple discovering their connection in multiple realms; the physical plus its indisputable attraction, the sense that his arms around her felt safe and acquainted. Or the emotional, feelings forcing them to readjust their beliefs, their previous preconceptions; to push the past into the history and look at what the present showed them. They were two pieces of a puzzle, her Yin to his Yang.

Between Draco and Hermione, there wasn't even room to breathe. His hand roamed over her spine, caressing a globe before returning to her shoulder blades and repeating it all over, soothing, entrancing. The other guided her hips into motion. His warm breath tickled in her ear, every time he released his lips from kissing her neck softly, to inhale her hair scent. She danced, eyes closed, arm curled around his neck, a palm against his chest, feeling the powerful heartbeat beneath her skin. The world faded around them, the lights merely a soft glow.

Hermione rose her head to meet his face, gaze wandering through his lips, up to his eyes. A special glow of grey, almost liquid. He lowered his head and kissed her. At first, a light touch, followed by an intenser colliding of lips, the dancing was wholly forgotten. Hands buried in blond tresses or in brown curls.

"Come home with me, Hermione."

"Draco…"

"Please… I don't want to part."

"There's still the p-"

"The pageant is merely a formality. I know what I want. Rather who I want. So do you." Draco had pulled her into a dark nook, away from the rest, "Why wait?"

"If you want me so badly, then you can wait a week longer." Her head was spinning. She knew it, he was right. But he wanted to hit a higher gear, and it was going too fast for her.

"Woman, you drive me nuts." He brought their foreheads together, "I can wait, but I don't want to. I don't want to go another fucking week until I get to see you again. You want to wait with getting in bed, fine. If it really has to. But...I. Want. To. See. You." Draco pushed her against the wall, kissing her passionately, both panting in need at the end. "Hermione…"

"I didn't plan this, Draco." Her brain and her heart fought dearly, her voice raising in its volume as evidence of her struggle. "I didn't plan on having to get married as if the earth was going to end tomorrow and this is my last chance. I didn't plan on finding  _in_ you, the person that I thought to be everything but my other half. And I definitely didn't plan on falling in love so fast." She took in a sharp breath, realising she said more than she wanted. Feeling caged, she pushed him away, but he stopped her, pulling her right back in.

"At what point did you think that I had it all planned?" His eyes were piercing into hers, "I was taught to hate you, witch. As it turns out from this little idea of yours and your blind talks, we have more in common than I could anticipate. Do you know how relieved I was to hear your voice the second time?" He couldn't make up his mind, strangle her or kiss her senseless. "You're not the only one who's universe has been shaken to its core. Nor the sole person to fall in love either. Woman…" Kiss her senseless won.

She moaned into his mouth.

"Stop with your noises, or I'll rip a hole in this stockings of yours and fuck you right here." The shaking of his hands, the give away of how much self-control he was using. "You win, princess. You win." Her swollen lips tempted him once more to take possession. "One week. Not a day longer."

"Better shake those hips at that pageant runaway. Consider it foreplay."

"Woman, foreplay is when my tongue is lapping those delicious juices straight out of its well. And not a moment before."

Hermione whimpered.

He won this round.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The heat is on... haha. Your reviews make me write faster... tit for tat.
> 
> My Magzillasaurus did again an amazing job. I love her help.

 

**Chapter Fourteen**

Her peace of mind barely lasted twenty-four hours.

The next morning, Blaise's owl arrived with an invitation for all to hang out at the Leaky that evening,  _against boredom on THE night out by excellence._  The message also mentioned, that  _denying was not an option,_ signed  _Z._

Hermione doubted if the reason for the invitation was solely for the goodness of his heart and to avoid 'boredom'. Her eyes rolled while reading.

A second owl arrived shortly after, the parchment sealed with a distinct M, ' _Wear something sexy, I'll pick you up at seven. DM.'_  The owl seemed to wait for an answer, and she penned her reply quickly. See if he can handle the heat, she thought.

In the typically feminine way, the next hour was spent choosing the proper attire, throwing option after option onto her bed, and the undergarments to match. All of it was subjected to the scrutiny look, being dismissed as it did not fit for the occasion enough, and seconds later re-added to the pile, for doubt. Her nails suffered under her nerves.

Ironically enough, choosing the underwear was the easiest, "I should choose the bra and then the dress, methinks."

-oOo-

On the other side of London, a certain wizard sought the comfort of a tumbler Firewhiskey before heading to the bathroom. His face needed a decent shaving, but he was shaking too much after her response. One, he read a few times to be sure he wasn't misreading it. 'I'll be waiting, you can Floo. Still, I can't say if I'll be wearing knickers…"  _His hellcat is playing with fire_ , and his mind kept thinking, how do you know if she's going commando?

She wanted to wait until after the pageant to date for real, a fact that was riling up his system, he was not a man to postpone a decision. Luckily she wasn't too much of a wallflower to deny herself, and him, a moment of pure pleasure. She didn't stop him, during any of their little encounters, as he pondered on those moments in the dressing room or at Blaise's.

Draco looked forward to tonight, crossing his fingers at the chance of a fumbling moment, if better wasn't in the cards, "Must not forget to send my buddy a bottle, this idea of his is brilliant."

Confident that his face was not going to suffer under shaky hands, he walked toward the bathroom, "I still have to tell my mother…"

-oOo-

At seven on the dot precisely, the chime of the Floo announced the incoming wizard. An impeccably dressed Draco stepped out of the hearth, rubbing a little dust off his blazer, and Hermione met him halfway, checking him out with a hum of approval. "You clean up nice, Draco."

"I have to, I'm accompanying a lovely witch." In return, he checked her out, stopping flirtatiously at her hips, to see if there were traces of knickers under her dress. As he found none, the corner of his mouth raised seductively.

Hermione brought him back to senses, "Ha-ah, not so fast, Draco, not all underwear is visible under clothes."

"You're suggesting I make a quick check?" He preyed on her, forcing her to retreat until her body collided with the wall.

"We'll be late." She sometimes forgot how Draco was a quick thinker. Her lips let out a series of quick breaths escape.

"We can skip the whole ordeal, and focus on the most imperative."

"I…" Her hands pushed at his pectorals, yet lacking convincing. "They...expect...us."

"They'll understand." He unhooked the only tightened button from his blazer, shrugging it off. The thick fabric was preventing him from feeling the heat of her skin on his chest. He pressed her harder against the wall, "Will you let me have a taste, please?"

"I have some roast left in the kitchen." Hermione squeaked.

"Very funny, love. I'm not hungry for food." Draco liked her throat up to her earlobe, biting in the little nub before whispering in her ear. "I'm hungry for a piece of a maddening," bite in the edge of her chin, "...smart-mouthed..." pull on her lip with his teeth, "...sexy..." his hands took hers, and raised her arms above her head, silver daggers piercing into her own eyes, "...future Mrs..." Draco's hot breath was consumed by her slightly opened lips, "Malfoy." He possessed her mouth, as a hungry man, tongue tasting her every corner.

Arms came down and snaked around his neck, while his hoisted her up, right under the globes and wrapped her legs around his waist. "I don't want to leave. " He spoke between their intakes for breath and crushing of lips.

"No, please." Her hands pushed his face slightly away, "Draco, I need…"

"What do you need?" He was humping against her core, her hips playing along in the rhythm. "Do you need me inside of you? Or my tongue licking your core until you come on my face?"

"Oh, Draco..." She whimpered, torn between the need to stop and finish the planned journey, and giving in to the feelings he woke up in her.

He sensed her turmoil and lead them to the sofa, nestling her on his lap, just like the day before. "Love, I don't want to force myself upon you. It's not how a decent relationship should start." It was unclear, if he was calming her down, or using the words to bring some sense into his mind, that was unmistakably in overdrive. His hands rubbed her arse, pulling the fabric higher up her waist. He remarked half surprised, and accusing, "You are wearing knickers."

She chuckled, "I can't go to a dinner between friends dressed indecently, Draco." His fingers were closing into her core, the tips brushing the crease between the curves. Her resolve was melting faster than an iceberg under the scorching sun, the hips arching in response to the sensations.

"You've got me all worked up, you know? I needed a me-moment under the shower thanks to your little scribbling." He kept nibbling at the column of her neck.

"Did I solicit such a reaction with only a few words, Mr. Malfoy?"

"No, not just the words. The memories of a sexy witch in her corset in front of me, of how she surrendered to my ministrations and came loudly on my fingers, memories I'm eager to repeat." His middle finger dipped all the way until the entrance, "Tell me to stop."

"I can't…" The friction of his hardness and the ghosting of his digit at her rear made it impossible.

"But you don't want to go all the way?" She shook her head, "Can I just have a little taste? Like yesterday? I promise to leave the whole dessert untouched. I only want an appetiser." Her nod barely gestured, or he flipped her on her back, raising the skirts of her dress high enough to uncover the lacy thing wrapped around her hips.

"You call these knickers?" Pulling them fast from her legs, he flipped the navy blue underwear as a flag. "They barely cover the basics!" Flashing the garment over his shoulders, he spread her legs, to admire the glistening centre of her body, "Nicely trimmed…" A wiggle of the eyebrows, his last warning.

He dived heads on, tongue entering her core to lap the juices, before focussing all his attention to the clit; his cheeks hollowed in suction, two fingers trailing the outlines of her entrance before thrusting in one move.

Hermione mewled, "Oh, fuck." Hands pushing the strapless dress down enough to uncover the bra, and snake her hand between the fabric, to play with her breasts.

"Play with your tits for me, that's it… you're a goddess like this." Completely attuned to her breaths, moans and jerks; he worked her to perfection, observing this time how her walls contracted around his digits, as she reached her peak. He drank her, lapped every drop release unable to hide his male pride.

Draco removed her wandering hand from his groin, despite the cost to his desire. "This treat of yours will be my nightcap, for when I bring you back home."

"Are you sure?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

"If I feel your mouth wrap itself around my dick right now, we're never leaving this place." He employed every ounce of control to subdue his desire, "I'll try to abide by your wishes, as long as you give me some playroom in between."

"Playroom?" Hermione was too spent to react with more than a pull of an eyebrow.

"Your pussy is my playroom." He cupped her between her legs, before getting off of the sofa and pulling her with him. "Put on some other sort of knickers, woman. This type of underwear is for my eyes only…"

"Nobody sees it unless you raise my skirts in public."

"The thought counts as well." He pushed her into the hallway, with a pat on her arse, "Move, witch. We're going to be too late." Hermione refused to move an inch, and he grabbed her hands, pulling her behind him. After the third attempt, he found her bedroom. Her underwear drawer wasn't hard to find, in her hurry, she had left it half open.

Pushing it open, he slack-jawed, "So many?"

"Secret pleasure."

"I'll have to add more room inside my closets if you're bringing this much."

"I don't own much clothing. I only have a weakness for lingerie," Hermione opened the doors to her wardrobe, "See?"

"I already know which my next investment will be." He fumbled in the drawer, searching for a matching piece, yet less revealing.  _What if Blaise got a look?_  He felt a gotcha moment when he finally found his choice.

"What's that, Mr. Malfoy? A seminar on how to have more self-control?"

"I have myself perfectly in hand." His palm rubbed suggestively over his groin, which was calming down as he fiery hoped for; the last thing he needed was falling victim to Blaise's assertive look when they joined the group at the Leaky.

Despite his plan, the rubbing caused the opposite effect, and his trousers tented once more, very notoriously. "I mean, all these undergarments need a decent amount of robes to go with it, Miss Granger. My calculations at the moment point at one dress for every three sets."

"Make it four."

"Even worse. It urgently needs to be inverted, hence my need to enlarge the ensuite." He waited long enough for her to put on the knickers, and rushed her to the Floo.

"Wait, I need to check on my appearance." He rolled his eyes, while she reapplied the charms to her hair and added a new layer of lipstick.

"You look astonishing, now let's go."

"Remind me again why we are arriving late?"

"I wanted an appetiser."

-oOo-

As it turned out, they weren't the only couple to be late. The organiser of the event himself appeared minutes after Draco and Hermione, with a dishevelled look, Daphne carried herself better, but if you looked closer, the makeup also had received a not so perfect retouching.

Yesterday's back to the eighties party had smashed the boundaries. On all of them.

Regarding Theo and Luna, there was no the surprise. Luna forced Theo to wait with making it official, but it was just a formality. The couple just couldn't stay away from each other, Theo acting like a complete marshmallow in his worshipping. Needed a drink? Feeling hungry? A hug or a soft kiss on the top of the head. Constantly touching.

"My mate looks like a damn Hufflepuff." Draco kept her close to his body, arm around the waist.

"I find it adorable, he's clearly head over heels…"

"Do you want me to pamper you like that?"  _Would he do it? Probably…_

"I would probably ask you if you felt sick." Hermione slapped playfully on his face, "I don't mind you getting me a drink, but this…" finger pointed at Luna and Theo's non-stop cuddling, "Would suffocate me. I can take care of myself."

"But, I don't mind bringing you a drink so-"

"Now and then." She finished his sentence. "Not the whole time. I know how to take care of myself!" He pulled her tighter and kissed her on her hair. "You know me so well, Draco."

"No, I understand that if I overstep, you'll put me in place in the blink of an eye." He helped her take her seat, next to Harry's. "Potter, can I ask you a question?"

"You just did," Harry sat down his glass.

"Why are you doing this whole blind thing, if you have your woman right there?"

Ginny beat Harry at answering, "Because we started it as a relationship test, would we choose each other during those blind sessions? The rest is only for fun… I can't wait to see my boy wiggle his arse on that stage."

"Wiggle?"

Pansy slid across the table with much noise, "Draco, darling. The pageant is a request of the entire board. Blaise here wanted to see the female attributes, we wanted pretty much the same. So work out on those abs, and yes, you'll have to wiggle. Hermione deserves her man candy."

"Who do you think is the best man candy, Pansy?" The girls were in the teasing mood once more.

"Hermione, do you mean per house?" Finger tapped against the cheek, "I'll do Slytherin and Ravenclaw. You tell me about Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, deal?" The brunette agreed, "Ravenclaw? Goldenstein if he keeps his mouth shut."

Ginny agreed, "He makes you want to mute him twenty-four hours a day…"

Hermione nodded, eagerly, "In Hufflepuff, only Cedric was really worth watching, Merlin rest his soul. The rest is just bland."

"Michael Cormac knows how to-"

Harry muffled Ginny's further elaboration of her escapades with the ex-boyfriend, adding the hilarious moment to the table. "We don't need to know the details, sweetheart." The rest smirked, as Ginny kept talking behind the hand.

"Pansy, we need the juicy stuff." The Gryffindor princess dared the Slytherin to take the bait.

"From the snakes? Daphne, help me out. The three best men-candy, are sitting here at our table. But when it comes to the first place…"

"Hmm, dangerous field, Pans…" Daphne warned her, it seemed as if the three men puffed up their chests. But the decision wasn't hard at all. "I guess, I have the winner in my possession."

"I'm sorry, Hermione, but Daph' is right. If it's a consolation, it comes down to peanuts about details. Our chocolate candy over there works out more than your blondie and marshmallow over there."

It was as if Blaise grew inches taller.

Hermione whispered to Draco, "I wouldn't trade you. I like your tongue too much."

"Wait until you make acquaintance with another body part of mine." It stung being a second,  _work out my arse… the bloke sat more on his lazy behind than me._

Daphne asked above the rim of her glass, "It's your turn, who's the hottest stud on the lions' side?"

"None of the two sitting here, I'm afraid." Ginny fully agreed with Hermione's assessment, faced Harry in apology, "You do look good, but there's someone else who looks hotter in our Gryffindor."

Not happy with the outcome, Ron bit off, "Who then?" Pansy's rubbing on his thigh calmed his temperament but only that much. Draco felt it as a personal victory,  _scarhead is also second_.

"Neville." Not one witch disagreed.

"Second that." Ginny rubbed it in, with a hidden agenda. One for between the sheets…

"Us too." The girls toasted in agreement.

-oOo-

"I'm glad we have Sunday the pageant," Theo mumbled into Luna's neck.

"You're wrong, Theobear, it's first something else, right Hermione?"

"Yes, Luna, they only talk about parading this weekend, but it will there's still another test in between." Draco just fed her a piece of treacle tart, and she answered between bites. The hand was ready with a second piece, but it held up mid-air. The grey gaze looked suspicious. "There's the job-shadowing first."

Ron spoke up, in his mouthful way, "We're going to shadow a job?"

"No, dummy." Pansy's hand was eager to swat him in the head,  _how often had she already told him, to swallow first and speak after?_  "You're going to do a day's routine with a house-elf."

"Including diaper change," Blaise spoke through his teeth, that part right there was far from his favourite.

"Where are they going to find all those babies? Poor souls..."

Daphne asked a logical question, but Hermione had it all covered. "They will be puppets, magically tweaked to respond like a real baby. The elves are seeing to that."

"To get this straight," Harry needed confirmation, "We'll be doing what a house-elf does, including the baby-changing part?"

"Yes, Harry. Since we've worked it out, I can't shake my mind off that song from Queen, you know?"

Both sang it simultaneously, "I want to break free." Harry broke in a burst of laughter, "I'm not wearing a frilly apron, Miss Granger." The rest didn't understood the joke, and Harry decided to show it on a later moment.

"I have no say in the matter. As it turns out, that part is coordinated by Molly with the help of Professor McGonagall."

"What does that old bat have to say about it?" Draco received a nasty look.

"The majority of the house-elves assisting in this test, come from Hogwarts. They seem eager to force you into the nastiest jobs." Hermione seemed to enjoy an inside joke.

"You do realise that all we the blokes have to do, you witches are expected to do the same, right?"

Pansy looked horrified at her hands. Daphne the same but more composed, only Hermione and Luna smiled, not it was evident if it was equally meant.

Ginny shrugged, "There's always soap…"


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My gratitude once more goes to my dear Magzillasaurus.
> 
> Also, my dear and loyal readers, your reviews are a blessing, I can't thank you enough! Kudos to you all!

##  Chapter Fifteen

It was very late in the night when the group was finally kicked out of the Leaky. Draco brought her home, as promised.

 

“Are coming in for your nightcap?”

 

“No.”

 

Disappointment showed up immediately, “Oh.”

 

“If I’m coming in, I’m not leaving. You’re not ready for this step, yet.”

 

“But earlier you said...”

 

“I know what I said, but I also know what I want, and feel. I prefer it this way. Sample what will be mine, but not indulge too much.”

 

Hermione kept stroking over his chest, the nails ranking over the taut nipples, “Are you sure?”

 

His hand stopped her hand, “Don’t taunt me further if you’re not willing to deal with the consequences…” Hermione unlocked her door, stepped through the threshold and looked at him.

 

“See you Tuesday?”

 

"Try to stop me." He pulled her in for the last intense kiss and closed the door before his resolve died.

 

-oOo-

 

Sunday brunch at Molly’s felt different than usual. As it was the last in this setting.

 

“After next week, our table will become more crowded. We’ll be accommodating two more souls, here.” Molly looked around, with her typical smile, sighing, “I guess, there’s always room for one more.”

 

“Even Draco?” Hermione didn’t know what to expect, from Mother Weasley.

 

“We don’t differentiate in our home. The son is not to blame for the father's sins. From what I saw during the cooking session, Draco seems to have changed greatly. He’s polite, he wasn’t unfriendly towards Harry or Ron, which surprised me the most…”

 

Harry fell in, “Yes, Molly. He’s been quite tolerable since this whole circus started.” Hermione huffed at his description. “I wonder, if Lucius had been another man, I think Draco and I could have befriended each other that first year. It’s a shame that the git’s head was so clouded.”

 

“He acknowledges it.” Hermione picked up a begging Victoria into her lap. “I asked him what he regretted the most in the past, during that first session. He told me he was sorry for looking through a clouded judgement and not his own eyes.”

 

“As I suppose.”

 

Hermione decided to torment her other friend, “How're things with Pansy? Do you want me to knock on your head?”

 

He ate fast, swallowed the content and spoke empty-mouthed, “No, No. I don’t think it will be necessary.”

 

“Ron, did you just empty your mouth first before speaking?”

 

“I guess?” Hermione smiled, watching how Pansy was grooming Ron so perfectly. The wizard went on, unfazed, “Pansy is not so bad, once she lets you in.”

 

“Let you in, huh?”

 

Watching Ron blush, was adorable, “Oh, ‘Mione… you know what I mean. She’s softer behind her mask, makes me smile. Last time, when I picked her up to go to the Leaky, she had baked these cookies. The taste wasn’t that bad… they were her very first.”

 

Hermione barely believed her hearing, “Pansy Parkinson baked cookies for you?”

 

“Doesn’t your git do the same?”

 

“No, he buys me lingerie.” Arthur and Molly’s gaze fixed on her, knowing glints in their eyes.

 

“Oh, yes, the lingerie trip. Pansy was quite annoyed I refused to go.”

 

“Why didn’t you?” Ginny still found his reason lame, “If you like the witch…”

 

“I hate shopping, Gin.”

 

"That's no good reason, she's baking cookies for you. I wish I were a beetle to see the mess in the kitchen."

 

“The house-elf looked as if he was in elf-paradise.”

 

Molly chuckled, “The kitchen must have been the dirtiest then.”

 

“What are your plans for after the pageant?”

 

“You mean if I survive the cleaning job on Tuesday?”

 

“Ron, stop worrying.” Both Hermione and Molly shushed the ginger head.

 

“What are your plans, ‘Mione? Date the ferret?” In a blushing contest, the result would be a tie between Ron and Hermione. Harry savoured the funniest moment of his life.

 

“Draco is…”

 

“So is Pansy, ‘Mione. Indescribable. Unexpected.”

 

“More than we imagined?”

 

“Can we handle them?”

 

“I don’t know, have I become immune to a snake?”

 

“My snake slithers just fine.” Embarrassment hit her, “Oh, shit.”

 

“Mine has nice curves.”

 

“Hear, hear! My little brother has found breasts!” George couldn’t hold it anymore. “Have you fondled them?” 

 

“George Weasley, stop with the bully act!” Molly melted watching Ron’s flush. “Son, these kind of details aren’t something you need to share.” His face gave it all away and reminded Arthur of the time he flirted with his wife, whom’s face confirmed that she was thinking similarly.

 

“Molly, I believe we’ll be celebrating four weddings in short order.”

 

“Nothing is official yet, Harry.” Hermione narrowed her eyes. 

 

“You’re one to talk, sister.” Ginny made Hermione regret her last words, “By the way you and Malfoy were cosy at the pub party, makes me believe that the wedding bells will ring. Don’t deny it. He was all handsy, as if he considered you his possession already.”

 

“We might have tested the waters.”

 

“Harry, did you hear this? This is how they say it nowadays, test the waters, instead of dipping the quill in the inkpot.” Molly threw a sharp look Ginny’s way, and the girl toned down. “Mother, I’m sorry.”

 

“We haven’t dipped a thing into anything.” Hermione’s hand shook as she brought the glass of water to her lips.

 

"Don't deny that you haven't tasted a bit of ferret, sister… You don't become so comfortable around each other, by only answering some questions honestly." Ginny sat her glass down, hitting the plate on the way.

 

“We...might have… kissed.”

 

“How did it taste? How does the ferret score in his kissing skills?”

 

“Ginny, will you stop?” Hermione was fanning herself, unclear why the heat foremostly, but the intense look of the red-haired didn’t back down. “On a scale of one to ten?” All nods and cheeky looks. “Aneleven.”

 

Harry brought both hands together, and rested his chin, “What was that?” He loved to see her this embarrassed but at the same time, happy. 

 

Hermione repeated, with a small voice, "Aneleven." Harry kept looking, stars shining in those green eyes, "An eleven, alright Harry? The ferret knows how to kiss and do other things, capiche?" She threw him a crumpled up napkin. Hungry for revenge, she turned her focus to Ron, "What about Pansy? You two have kissed already."

 

“Mother, do you have some more dessert?” Ron’s effort to escape the inquiry. He whimpered when even his father was waiting for an answer. “It’s was fine.” Molly sent him an incredulous look, “Mum, C'mon, alright! It was better than fine. I enjoyed it, okay?”

 

Molly decided, "Now we can stop dragging secrets out of each other. It seems to me that Hermione's initial plan is working perfectly. The Ministry should reward you, Hermione. I have the feeling the majority of these pairs will not be divorcing after that stupid period of five years." She sat a large treacle tart on the centre of the table. "Dessert, my loves. Enjoy."

 

-oOo-

 

Hermione had just arrived home, as a floo-call came in. “Finally, you’re home. I thought I had to come and rescue you from the Weasley’s dungeons. Can I come over?”

 

“Are you going to insult the Weasley’s further?”

 

“No, I swear it on my mother's soul. Please, Princess. Can I come?” An instant later, he came through the flames, straight to her. His hands brought her face to his, his lips caughting hers in a searing kiss. “Gods, I missed you.”

 

“Were you gone?”

 

"Witch, you’ll pay for that." He backed her up to the couch, pushing her until she sat. He straddled her legs and claimed her mouth again. The hands made their way down to her blouse and unhooked the buttons. In no time, he was admiring a new bra. "I love your secret passion." He took his own shirt out and pressed her down the sofa, pushing his upper body on hers, skin on skin.

 

“Draco…”

 

“I need to feel you close, don’t worry. I’m keeping my promise.” He flipped them, now she was the one on top. Hands caressed her tight belly, tracing the scars from the war. Using his core power, he rose to a sitting position, hands holding her shoulders tight, while her hands played with the tips of his hair, rubbing his neck. “I just need my daily Hermione doses.”

 

His nose inhaled her scent, lips and tongue savouring the taste of her skin, arms squeezing out the air between the two. A long finger pulled the strap down, lowering the lace till under her breast, “I’m addicted to these, so delicious and ripe.” He feasted on her mounds, rubbing his nose on his favourite spot, the valley.

 

Enjoying the shocks of electricity down her spine, she rubbed her centre over his bulge, rasping a laugh after his groan. Hermione wiggled herself free, shovelling down to waist height. Keeping his gaze in hers, she opened the belt and fly, swatted on his arse to make him raise his hips, lowering in one pull the denim and cotton trunks covering his arse. 

 

Draco held her up, “I didn’t come for this.”

 

"It's my turn to give pleasure, next time it's yours…" His next comment was shortcut by a low grunt, Hermione taking his cock deep in her mouth, scraping her teeth lightly over the head before sucking on it. Draco trembled, the ripples of fire robbing him of his vision. Head back, Adam's apple protruding through the skin of his neck, breath in short exhales. He was entirely at her mercy, and she drowned at the sight. 

 

Her hand played with his balls, remembering their first time and how he begged for touch. His eyes flew open, full of arousal, at the first stroke. Hermione bobbed up and down, in slow motion, agonisingly slow, licking over the slit, down the hard ridges of his velvety soft skinned member, to take one of the two in the mouth, brush with her tongue right behind them over the neglected ball back to her starting point.

 

It brought him to his point of no return. She felt him tense under her grasp and took him in her mouth as he spurted his cum into her throat, moaning deeply. Her hand followed the mouth, pumping all he had to give, his own palm grasping the back of her head to show her what he needed. Fingers tightening around her curls. Shivers down his spine.

 

Purring, Hermione covered him neatly again, pushing his slacks over his hips. Crawling on her fours, she towered over him, the glint of satisfaction readable on her eyes. She licked her lips off, tasting the last drops of essence, and he claimed her mouth brutally. 

 

Her arms surrounded his head, resting on her elbows. “Wipe that cheeky smile of your face, you know you won, princess.” 

 

"You were at my mercy, git." She bit him playfully on his bottom lip. He was so spent, that he barely had the strength to react with more than a simple rub over her arse. Annoyed that she was beaming too obviously, he pushed her head under his chin, and snaked her arms around him, holding her tightly.

 

Draco exhaled with deep breaths of contentment.

 

“Molly expects you for a future Weasley brunch.” Her finger drew eighths on his chest, from her cradling position. 

 

That statement surprised him, “Me?”

 

"Pansy also. Molly said her house always has room for one more."

 

“Pansy I can understand, from the rat’s point of view.” It earned him a swat on his side, “I surrender! The Weasel.” A new swat, harder this time. “Stop that. Ron, okay? Pansy and  _ Ron  _ are becoming pretty tight, nowadays.”

 

"She's doing a nice job at grooming him, he swallowed before he spoke today." Draco rolled his eyes. "Yes, I could barely believe my eyes, Draco. Ron had table manners." He snorted. "Stop it, Draco. He's my best friend." The humming in defeat rumbled under her ears. "Molly said literally that she doesn't blame you for your fathers' sins. You charmed her with your manners during the cooking, I'm quite proud of you."

 

It earned her a straight look in the eyes, “You’re proud of me?”

 

“For now, yes. I wonder how you’ll do in the next test and most importantly, what you’ll do during the pageant.”

 

“What is it with you girls. You only want to see us parade in our underwear!”

 

“Our female eyes want some man candy, remember?” The blond brow hid under the fringe. “Not that I’m complaining about what’s under me.” Her finger trailed the crease of his abdominals, “Nicely defined, taut…” He flexed them for extra effect. “Well defined pectorals…” His chest rose faster under her touching. “These little nubs ask to be bitten.” Hermione wetted the top of her digit, to rub his nipple in circles, “And the perfect amount of chest hair. Just the way I like it, just a tuft, far from the ape-haired type.” Nails ranked once more over the thin hairs, “I can’t understand why Blaise wins the Slytherin title.”

 

“Am I your number one?”

 

“Does your ego need some stroking?” 

 

He roared, “Leave it up to me to end up with the sassiest witch in the world.” Draco kissed her on the top of her head, “Were you serious about the Weasleys?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“I don’t deserve it.”

 

“If you feel you did them injustice, apologise as you did with me. Be honest, remember?”

 

“Don’t remind me of that bint.” He rose up from the couch, setting her in the corner with a new kiss.

 

“Are you leaving?” She missed already his warmth.

 

“Dream sweet dreams of me.” Pulling his shirt over his head, he headed towards the Floo. 

 

Hermione followed barefoot, putting on her own blouse, “Draco?”

 

“I need to deal with some stuff.” One last pull against his chest, before that last sweet goodbye kiss. “Miss me, Princess.”

 

“When...”  _ Why was it so hard to see him leave? _

 

“Tuesday at the very latest. My Floo is open for you as well, you know?” That last bit brightened her just a little. “It’s the Malfoy penthouse.”

 

“Not the Manor?”

 

“Not since the fall of Voldemort. I hate the drawing room.” The final kiss before he was gone through the flames.

 

Her fingers lingered on her lips, her mind lost in thoughts.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, my eternal gratitude to my darling Magzillasaurus, for her beta work. She gives this that extra tweak.
> 
> Second, I'm taking a week off vacay, to a place with wifi but unreliable. Meaning that I possibly can't update next week. Don't worry, I'm three chapters ahead, at the moment, will be able to write and a new fic is coming as well. Nothing else than good right?
> 
> Enjoy and share your joy with me!
> 
> Kudos to all of you.  
> Ruthy

##  Chapter Sixteen

 

Hermione was giving her house a good cleaning on Monday morning as Pansy’s voice sounded through her Floo. “Hey, Herms, do you want to gather with the girls and have lunch?”

 

"Give me thirty minutes, and I'm yours." The dryer was just finishing with her last load, a chore she still preferred to do in Muggle fashion, she used it to have the room to think. Pansy's face disappeared from the flames, but the witch herself entered her home.

 

“Can we talk?” Pansy followed the brunette’s movements, as Hermione folded socks and other garments neatly in piles. Pansy sat down at the table, first fumbling with her fingers, but soon picking up a jumper and folding it distracted. “Ron told me about your little talk during yesterday’s brunch.”

 

Hermione took care of three pieces at the same speed it took Pansy to do one, someone was apparently not used to do laundry. "Let me guess, about how Molly expects you to join them?"

 

“Yes.” Folding the nightgown was a hard task, by the looks, Pansy restarted three or four times. Maybe the lack of focus was to blame, “This feels comfy.” She gave it up, and Hermione took over that last piece of her pile. “Did she mean it?”

 

“Molly is not one to say things in vain, Pansy. Draco also had trouble coping.” Laundry flew into the basket, which got levitated and was brought into the bedroom. Pansy followed Hermione. “Pansy, what is your real problem?”

 

“Our family always treated the Weasley’s as blood traitors. Now, they are inviting me into their home? I feel uncomfortable.”

 

“Could that also be Draco’s problem, perhaps?”

 

“For him its a tad worse, his father never let an opportunity go by without rubbing it in Arthur’s face how much wealthier the Malfoys were, and still are.” Pansy sought a place to sit on the bed, from where she could see Hermione best. The infamous drawer of lingerie was on display. “Bloody hell, you have more knickers than I. Has Draco seen this already?”

 

“He told me he’s going to enlarge his suite and buy me more dresses to go with all of it.” 

 

Pansy giggled, shaking her head, “Let him spend his galleons on you.” Hermione waved her off, money was never her focus. “All the fun aside. How can I accept the hospitality, knowing the history of our families?”

 

"I'm telling you what I told Draco. If you feel you did them an injustice, ask for forgiveness. Molly has adopted Harry and me from day one; that woman's heart is always expanding. Her words were  _ the son is not to blame for the father’s sins. _ ”

 

“You are scaring me more.”

 

“Why is that?” Hermione chose a top to go with her denim, but Pansy changed it into something more fitting. She agreed with the suggestion.

 

“You are used to cooking, being homey, to enjoying the little things. I’m taught to sit properly, not get my nails dirty and every wish of mine was granted by house-elves.” Distracted, she started to braid Hermione’s hair. “I’m the complete opposite of who you are.”

 

"The Weasleys will accept you if you don't make them feel inferior at every turn." She handed her a rubber band to tie the ends. "Be gentle, like you are now with me. Things will be fine, no one will judge you if you don't give them a reason to." Playing with her braid, she pushed the girl, who was easily becoming a good friend, out of her room thinking. "Where are we going now?"

 

"Fortescue's, lunch in the shape of huge ice cream."

 

“Healthy, very healthy.” Her bag was whisked in a second, “Let’s go and be irresponsible.”

 

-oOo-

 

“Girls, we need to flock together and work out a strategy for the pageant.” Ginny laid out her plans halfway through her treat. “We should give our men the moment of their lifetimes.” Nothing but nodding heads. “Do you all have sexy beachwear to wear Sunday?”

 

“Yes!” Mutual agreement.

 

“I brought with me some pictures of what Muggle pageants are like. They walk seductively on high heels, in bathing suits and evening gowns.” Hermione opened her folder, she had worked it out a few days ago, thinking on an opportunity like this one.

 

“Do we need to do more shopping?” Daphne looked forward to the prospect. “I don’t have a wedding dress.”

 

“Why that outfit? Do you want all the other women to see your wedding gown? No, thank you. I think more in terms of a piece from Madam Malkin’s and high heels.” Pansy gave her opinion that resonated with the entire gang.

 

“We can also transfigure something for the occasion. Plus we must think on cushion charms for the heels, or after ten minutes we will complain about our feet. Now about an act?”

 

"On such short notice?" Daphne panicked.

 

“You could read something?” Hermione had already an idea in her head but didn’t want it to be copied, so she kept it wisely to herself. “A poem? Or an excerpt of a story you love? Dance something of your earlier ballet choreography?”

 

Luna answered dreamily, “I’ll sing my own composition.”

 

“I’m skipping that part, unless I give a chaser demonstration, but that’s not such a big deal.”

 

“Harry will love it, Ginny. It’s for him you’re doing it, not for the rest.”

 

“What will you do?” The red-haired girl was curious.

 

“I’m playing with a few options, not yet certain of what to do.”

 

Ginny didn’t buy it, but let it pass, understanding what went unsaid.

 

-oOo-

 

It was late in the afternoon as they parted ways. This whole circus, as Harry called it, had brought people together who would otherwise have stayed inside their tiny circle; had they not been forced to come out. The Slytherin girls were fun to have around. More prudish than Hermione expected them to be, but on other aspects more forward and honest. 

 

The days at Hogwarts would have been so different if the figurative walls hadn’t been there from the start. The house’s stereotypes setting them up against each other before the first hello was said. Imagine the mischief. Imagine the nights hunkering down in one of the dorms, the sleepovers, the hairdressing and makeup moments. Imagine the gossip about the wizards, who was hot and who was not. Life at Hogwarts would have been the complete opposite.

 

Hermione lingered on her way home. Unsure of her destination. Her heart wanted to satisfy the curiosity about a specific penthouse, her mind rationalised that they were going too fast and she should use her day off to ponder her decision.

 

_ There’s no decision to make, it’s already decided. _

 

She recalled all her previous moments with other wizards, and even before the foreboding of Draco’s presence entered her mind, not one other man woke up her spirit, as number eighty-four did. There had been some pleasant exchanges, but none lingered in her mind as Draco had, since that very first session.

 

By the second round, she was so focused on him to show up, that she barely registered the others. He admitted being relieved to hear her voice during that following round; the truth was Hermione also looked forward to it, in a sense, she felt freed when his drawl filled the room. He was not what she expected. If she had seen him approach her booth, chances were big that he would have been hexed from here to Tokyo in a blink of an eye.

 

The curtain blinded her and forced her to open up unknowingly to whom it was on the other side of the fabric. She discovered a man who made her smile, who aroused her, with whom she could talk, knowing he understood her words. Who, in fact, didn’t look down on her passion for reading, nor the babbling. She discovered what her mum once described, your other half.

 

Accepting him out in the open was a different beast. He had the talent to push her buttons, to draw her out. Bringing out her self-defense mechanism to bite back. They duelled verbally, and it had felt good. Draco gave her a run for her money, that much she knew. But gradually she mingled the image of her mystery man with the git she knew, and she saw him differently.

 

Seeing him fumble in that cooking test was a sweet memory. He accepted the challenge and embraced it without curling his lip at any moment. Hermione was confident that he even enjoyed a few aspects. The picture was evident in her head, being all homey, cooking together - on the naughty days even interrupting the process for a quick shag on the table because they kept taunting each other. 

 

Draco had slithered himself inside her mind, his presence soothed her. Her heart won. She headed to the nearest Floo and decided to pay a certain ferret a visit. Check out his lair, as Draco had with hers. 

 

-oOo-

 

Hermione landed to a view that melted her into a puddle of jelly, upon arrival. 

 

The chime of the Floo startled him between the push-ups, and he barely got on his feet, as Hermione entered the living room; sofa shoved to the side as usual when he worked out. His red face brightened up, while he took a towel to dry the sweat off of his skin. "Hermione, you're here."

 

She enjoyed the sight of his chest, drops of sweat sliding down, disappearing into the waistline of his lounge shorts. Hermione flashed him the cheekiest of smiles while paying double attention to the toned abdomen.

 

“Like what you see, love?” After drying his neck, he threw the burden away, pacing barefoot like a predator with its prey. 

 

She backed against the door, “Are you flexing on purpose, Prince Charming?”

 

“Everything for my girl.” He drawled.

 

“I’ve read somewhere that kissing burns six point four calories a minute. Want to work out a little more?” He consumed her last word, hoisting her up and pacing back to the sofa, lowering her until her back met the cushion.

 

"I was halfway through my workout, witch. We'll have to do quite a lot of kissing to reach my quota." Nestling between her legs, he kissed her heatedly, while she rubbed his spine up and down, caressing, scratching, legs pushing him tighter to her. His shorts couldn't hide his excitement, and he rubbed against her core. "I forbid you to wear trousers, love. I don't have the easy access I need right now."

 

“I didn’t come for a shag. I came for a tour of the house, check out the premises.”

 

"You want to sightsee in your future home?" He bit in her neck, playfully. Jumping on his feet with feline grace, he pulled her off the sofa. "I see it already before me, Hermione. This is my kitchen. It has all the room for any extra appliances you might need; I'll be your humble assistant."

 

What he left out, was the fantastic view from his kitchen windows with the Thames in the background. He had chosen the best penthouse you could find between Muggle and Wizard London.

 

Adjacent to the kitchen, the ample living room, tastefully decorated in a surprising combination of warm and inviting tones. The Slytherin house colours present just here and there without clashing. Prominently on display, was a bookcase with several tomes, which she submitted to an inquiry.

 

“Muggle writers?”

 

“Wizards.”

 

“Excuse me, Shakespeare is no Wizard.”

 

“According to whom, exactly?”

 

“To the Hermionopedia! He was no wizard, but a really talented writer.”

 

“I bet he was a Squib.”

 

"Alright, how much do you want to make a bet?" Immediately, she came up with multiple possibilities in case of winning. "If I win, you go all muggle and go trick or treating with me during Halloween. Dressed up as a Count Dracula."

 

“I’m not even worried about who the bloke might be. I’m winning. As a prize, I want you to go fly with me.”

 

“On a broomstick? Not in a million years.”

 

"It's your bet, it's my victory, and you'll have to comply." She didn't like the idea any longer… "I still have more rooms to show you." With her hand firmly in his, he continued his tour down the hall. "Empty room, for now, could become a nursery, or a study. A spare bathroom and then my room." The spare bathroom was bigger than her chamber, but she kept the comment to herself.

 

The door opened into the biggest quarters aside from the living room. In the middle, a modern king-sized bed, neatly kept, overlooking high, floor to ceiling windows; the grey walls contrasting with off-white touches. The dressing room was quite spacious but what really drew her attention, was the impressive bathtub which could comfortably accommodate two.

 

Draco knew it was the centrepiece of his whole bathroom, “Can you see us between the bubbles?” His finger followed her spine, creating shivers down her body. “I’m lathering you in the finest oils, massaging away the stress knots on your back, and continuing to spoil you until you reach your pleasure point? Or, me buried inside of your body, bringing you over the edge?”

 

“Your voice could seduce a eunuch.” The penny dropped, very slowly, but when it did, he roared, belly shaking of laughter.

 

“Oh lords, you’re one of a kind…” He wiped tears off his face, breaking again, seeking support against the sink. She fell into laughter with him, his fun affecting her the most. Fingers sought each other, one pulling the other into his circle of arms, hand brushing the hair away from her face.

 

Laughter finally died off, and he went all serious. “Do you like my place?”

 

“I’m jealous of your view.”

 

“It will be yours when you’re ready, it could already be yours if you want it. You know how I feel about skipping the remaining challenges…”

 

“I started this circus, as Harry calls it. I want to finish it as I planned it.” He nodded. “I should be going…”

 

“Let us fix something to eat together, see it as a try-out. Decide then if you want to spend the night here, or go back home.” Her raised brows forced him to promise, “I’ll not cross the boundaries.”

 

“It sounds like the most delicious cake dangling in front of you and you swearing not to touch. We both know how it ends.” He smirked at her, “The finger in the frosting!”

 

“Hermione…”

 

“Listen, we’ll do dinner. What do you have in-house to cook?”

 

“My house elf…”

 

“You want me to barbeque him? Or roast him well done in the oven?” She gave him  _ the look _ .

 

“Love, before you lecture me, my Tibby is a free elf, neatly clothed and he threatened to commit suicide if I didn’t let him clean the house and cook when I told him I was moving out of the Manor. Don’t judge me.”

 

“Your elf has blackmailed you emotionally, and you ate it up?”

 

“I… Alright, I admit. Don’t tell the others or my reputation as a Slytherin will be diminished into that of a marshmallowy Hufflepuff.”

 

“Where is he?”

 

“Tibby!”

 

A crack later, a butler-clothed house elf bowed, “Master Malfoy, yous have visitor?” 

 

“Meet Hermione, Tibby.”

 

“Tibby’s very pleased to meet yous, Missus Herminy.”

 

“Tibby, the pleasure is mine. Could you bring us what we need to make some steaks with mushroom cream sauce and baked potatoes?”

 

“Tibby makes yous perfect steak…”

 

“No Tibby, I want to cook with Draco.” The wizard followed the conversation closely, wondering how she was going to handle a hysterical elf. “I know you are a great cook, but I would love to do it together with him.” The little bottom lip was trembling, “Tibby, I promise you can clean the kitchen, and I’ll make it extra dirty.” That earned her a  _ what the hell _ \- look from the blond.

 

Her offer seemed to appease Tibby, “Extra dirty, Misses?”

 

“Extra greasy.” The little smile equalled the face of a toddler at the sight of the Christmas tree. In a matter of seconds, all the ingredients found their way into the kitchen.

 

"I guess we'll have to make our best, love. Shall I start on the mushrooms?"

 

“Not too thinly sliced, I love to have a bite.”

 

“You’re quite dangerous with that biting of yours.”

 

“I haven’t given you a reason to complain.” The licking of her lips, very telling...


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look who found a decent wifi to upload this for you? The next one will be only by Sunday... Enjoy part one of the House-elf Job-Shadowing.
> 
> If this chapter brings you fun, share the joy with me xxx
> 
> oh, and once more thank you, my dear Magzillasaurus, for your beta work. Always a pleasure.

 

**Chapter Seventeen**

He cut the mushrooms with precision, while she peeled the potatoes.

"Don't you use Potter's trick?"

"This goes much faster, all the fuss with boiling water…" The knife carved its way between peel and potato at a skilful rate. "I wonder… what did you mean about my stressy knots?"

"From work, when someone infuriates you as I did at Hogwarts. I'm an expert at riling you up, but I'm not unique."

"Prat." She shoved the peeled potatoes to him, "Can you cut these in cubes?"

"How big?" Her spread fingers showed him the size, and he went to work.

"You don't mind that I have a job?"

"One, you would wither away if I forced you to lead a life like my mother or any other Pureblood witch. Two, if I did force you, I wonder how many hexes you would send at me, for suggesting it alone. Three, and probably the most important, you're an incredibly talented witch, you're capable of changing the old rusty laws and leading our wizard world into the modern era." He leaned against the counter, arms crossed.

"Draco, those are big words."

"It basically comes down to this: whatever you decide to do with your professional life, I'll be your biggest supporter. If I would cage you, the only thing you would want is to escape me. I choose to hold my hand open and let you decide like a free bird."

"What are your plans? We haven't talked about our future plans."

He watched her boil the potatoes, his gaze all of a sudden distant, "I'm not a person who's welcome to a Ministry job, my father saw to it. They'll not be looking for me to join their Auror's team or any other; I've been adrift if I'm honest. I love potions, yet I don't see myself brewing them the rest of my life. I enjoy runes, but curse breaker? Won't they always expect me to abuse the power within the cursed item, instead of trusting my ability to break the hex?"

"Draco, those are dark thoughts," his tone of voice scared her, the proud man made room for a man who lost his self-confidence to a certain extent.

"It's the reality, Hermione." Pushing himself off the counter, he moved to the window and stared outside without seeing. "I don't need to work, my family heritance ensures me a stable life; however, I don't want to be a loser either. I want to have a place inside society, but which one?"

She turned off the heat, walked to him and leaned on his back, arms around his waist, "I don't like to see you so dark and moody; you can be so much more if you want to. If they did give you the opportunity to fulfil a function inside the Ministry, what would your choice be?"

"Pff, I don't know, I have no idea, Hermione. I try not to think of possibilities to avoid considerable disappointment."

She pushed him briskly by the arm, turning him towards her, "I hate to hear you talk this way, Draco. Where's your will to fight? You were always right behind me in the grades. You tell me that I'm a talented witch, but you are nothing less than a talented wizard either. Is the Ministry your ultimate goal, or would you prefer to stay out of it?"

"I do hate politics. My father reveled in it, I hate the game."

"Potions is a hobby for you, but not what you see yourself doing on a daily basis?" He shook his head, "Then we figure out together where your passion might lay; just keep this  _I'm not worthy -_ bollocks out of your head. You made mistakes, yes. We all have some specks of dirt on us, but you didn't commit any sort of crime that justifies a life sentence."

He jerked away from her, "Draco, hey!" Grey eyes stared toward the brown pair which bore into him, after her hand jerked his head back towards her, "You are worth it."

Eyelids shut down to hide the emotions inside, only bobbing his head in acceptance.

"I, for instance, don't know if I'll join the Department for the Regulation of Magical Creatures, or if I'll be aiming for a seat on the Wizengamot to change the pro-pureblood mania into a more tolerable community."

"I'll one day be, the husband of the first female Ministry of Magic." His thumb was tantalising her cheekbone, with every rub.

"Uh, as if I would get so far up the food chain." On her tippy toes, she pressed a kiss into his lips, "We have a meal to finish, I'm starving."

-oOo-

They finished working on their meal, with him setting the plates ready for her to scoop their food. Serving a glass of red, she chose to tackle less serious subjects, "What's your favourite dinner?"

"Salmon with lemon sauce and treacle tart."

"I love a good spaghetti with meatballs. My mother used to do it each time I returned from Hogwarts, as my welcome home meal."

"It sounds like something I would like to try…"

"Not with a white shirt on, the red stains are a pain in the arse to remove, even with magic." She smirked at the memories, "Molly hexed Ron often when he came home with tomato spots on his clothes."

"I'm not the Weaselbee." He refrained from correcting, "He calls me the ferret, I return the favour." She caved in with a shrug. "What can I expect tomorrow? Help your wizard a little."

"Nope."

"You're mean." Draco pouted, "I've never cleaned in my life."

She felt giddy, "Then it will be double fun for me to watch, haha."

"I thought you loved me."

"Fishing are we? Poor wizard, his girl is evil. Will your father hear about this?" Her fun died at the intensity of his eyes."I probably shouldn't have said that."

"You're reading me wrong, woman." Draco snatched her off her seat to settle her on his lap, her legs straddling his hips. "My hands are tickling to teach you some manners, a lesson in how to treat your wizard."

"Bah, all words no deeds." Her waving-off started a cat and mouse game; she jumped out of his lap to put the sofa between them, and he feigned going to the right and moving to the left. They ran like kids through the living room and the kitchen, waves of laughter and giggles loudly between breaking free during his attacks. Draco finally tackled her, both panting, while his body blocked her escape with its full weight.

"All words and no deeds, eh?" He raised up and sat on his knees, sandwiching her legs in between his, to avoid freedom of movement. A mischievous glare, her only warning, before his hands launched a tickling attack on her waist. She fought to evade, contorting in all ways from laughter and tickles, face red as a tomato.

"Stop, I yield!" She pushed his hands away, but in vain. Draco caught her both hands, and pinned them over her head with one hand, while the other resumed its previous task. "Draco, please. I can't anymore."

"Admit it."

"Admit what precisely?"

"Admit that I'm your wizard."

"You're the god of all ferrets and gits." He tsk'ed at her words and taunted her once more; she cackled, "Oh, Draco! PLEASE, STOP!"

"Repeat after me, I'm…"

She went along, "I'm…"

He couldn't finish. He couldn't force her to say what he wanted to hear, the words he longed for. She wasn't ready to speak them up, not that he doubted her feelings. Her passionate speech from a few hours ago spoke volumes.

Hermione used his temporary loss of focus to wiggle herself free and sat on her knees just like him. Her face carried traces of pure joy, eyes gleaming in delight. She inched closer, palms on his cheeks, "I'm falling in love with you, Draco." A kiss followed; one of those that you stay glued on each other's lips, tenderly. His hands rose, in slow motion, to hold onto her waist. Time stood still as she released him, eyes opening slowly to see his stunned features. It woke a smile on her face. "I'll see you tomorrow." Hermione kissed him quickly and apparated away.

"I'm becoming a bloody Hufflepuff." Draco remained a while in his position, yet he couldn't avoid the giddy smile that came.

-oOo-

Tuesday morning, worried looks on the wizard's faces, wide grins on the witches. The tiny detail about how the roles would be reversed in the afternoon was temporarily ignored by the women.

The same house-elf army waited for their victims. Yes, victims if you paid attention to the looks on the small creatures' faces. It seemed as if they considered this challenge as the final payback for yearlong servitude with the lack of respect for the performed duties. With the help of the Headmistress McGonagall and an equally eager Molly Weasley, a long row of small rooms - with a series of household tasks - waited for its assigned wizard.

On the plan: vacuum, dusting, lavatory cleaning with a disgusting toilet included, and finally, wash pots and dishes. At their disposal? A frilly apron, a pair of gloves and all the necessary items to bring this mission to completion. For the last part, the nappy change, a row of benches was set up with real size dolls.

Harry approached Hermione, "Did you bring it?" Her boombox exchanged hands, "Thanks, 'Mione."

"Is music also of vital importance?" Pansy wondered, halfway aware of the tasks ahead of her. It was the only challenge she disliked the most and feared above all. Cooking was hell on earth, but cleaning? Purgatory.  _Rather pamper a dragon._

"Pansy, it makes the job more bearable." Hermione was shocked at how the elves had turned their job-shadowing into a torture session, it really felt like retaliation.

Surrendering to the inevitable, the wizards put on the gloves, pulling them up as far as possible - some were annoyed it didn't cover their elbows.

"My dears, we want you to start with the dishes and the pots. It's the washing task of one house-elf after a meal in the Great Hall. Our head house-elf made sure the pots were extra dirty, full of stuck-on remains." Hermione heard the humour behind McGonagall's voice, the woman enjoyed an inside joke, apparently at the expense of the purebloods. The house-elves didn't hide their amusement at all, some even visibly rubbed their hands.

What was meant as a challenge about the ability to adjust, was turning into the revenge moment of the century. Not Hermione's original plan.

Lukewarm water filled the sinks, "Use your muscles, my dears. You'll need them to scrub those pots clean." Molly was no better than Minerva.

Harry turned the music on and sighed, "Good old fucking times."

"What did you say?" The tune in the background was contagious, but Draco was resisting the beat.

"I feel like I'm back at the Dursley's. Scrubbing and cursing."

"I suspect my arms will feel like lead by the end of the day," Theo whined.

Harry suggested, "Use the hot stream to soak up the stuck-up bits, it will make the scrubbing easier."

-oOo-

"What did Harry suggest, just now?" Daphne was paying attention, the initial fun disappearing and the feeling of doom sinking in. Like all the other Slytherins, they were paying attention for later.

Ginny translated, "To soak up the worst. It helps in the scrubbing."

"But, Miss Weaslette, my nails?" Pansy complained.

"Will grow back." Hermione shrugged, "I didn't expect the elves to be so bloodthirsty."

"They are having the time of their lives, aren't they?"

"The bloody creatures will be laughing harder than we planned."

"Theo can't help it, he's wiggling his arse to the beat." Luna giggled, "He's so cute…"

"Ron is dancing as if he as a stick up his arse."

"He needs his witch to guide him, so much is obvious." Ginny laughed at her brother, unabashedly.

-oOo-

The pile of dishes seemed not to diminish, "I suspect the elves are making us suffer for every meal at Hogwarts." Draco dried with the back of his sleeve, the drops of sweat on his forehead.

"It very well may be." Harry was going to have a talk with Hermione about this test. It wasn't as funny as it initially sounded, by the looks of that toilet. The nappy was also an unknown factor.

Ron fumed, "I'm about to break dish by dish."

"If yous breaks a plate, yous will have to wash ten mores." An offended house-elf declared the punishment, fists on waist.

"Just kidding." The elf walked further, and when the coast was clear, he mimicked "Bloody bastard,  _if yous breaks_..."

"Don't let Hermione hear you, Ron. Or she'll give you hell for it." Ron turned to the stands and grinned at said witch, innocently.

-oOo-

"That didn't look suspicious at all, did it?" Pansy could not make out what happened between the elf and Ron, but by the way he looked, she bet he was fuming.

"Pretend you didn't see it. It works best." Hermione returned the smile with an angelic one of her own.

-oOo-

The loud general sigh that reached the women, meant foremostly that their wizards were happy to be freed from the dishwashing task. It only emphasised how glad they were, to leave the job up to the slave drivers of the day: the house-elves.

Minerva announced the next chore, "Now your arm muscles are all warmed up, you can use your new found ability to scrub the lavatory and deal with this revolting toilet." She scrunched her nose, "Believe me, this is not the elves imagination. Some of you have left the pot in this repulsive state."

"That brush with a long handle will help you further," Molly spoke between contained snickers.

Harry knew which brush Molly meant, and picking it up from its container, he raised it, taking a duelling stand, "Malfoy, I challenge you to a duel."

Draco sneered, lacking conviction, "Should I turn this brush into a snake too?"

"No, bro. My parseltongue ability is turned off and we don't need a basilisk to keep us company. Enough snakes in here already. Now, fight back or yield." He wiggled the white brush, pushing Draco several steps back.

"Oh, bloody hell." Draco let his handle collide with Harry's, and the two entered a hilarious duel, laughing off the frustration from their scrubbing.

All the other men watched it unfold but decided to challenge the nearest wizard, and soon the whole room was duelling with dry toilet brushes. The sounds of laughter and crashing handles mixed with the howling from the stands.

"GENTLEMEN!" Molly ended the hilarious moment, pressing her lips together to contain the chuckles.

As if they were a groomed army battalion, the men fell in formation but cracked double at the thoughts of their previous battles. Harry and Draco snickered, covering their mouths, "We need to do this again, Potter."

"I prefer another item over these things." They roared once more but went all serious under the glare of McGonagall.

"The lavatories wait for you… NOW!" Molly was unrelenting.

The goofy wizards returned to their stations, looked at the offending pot and gagged in unison, Harry included.

"Bloody hell!"

"Salazar's saggy titties!"

"I'm gonna puke."

"Holy fuck." Immediately Harry fastened a towel around his head turning it into a mask, an action that found resonance within the entire group. "Not even Dudley made such a mess."

Using the sponge, he tackled the sink first, leaving the most disgusting task for last.  _I'm brave, but not that brave._  Everyone without exception followed his example, under the not-so-hidden snickers coming from the elves.

The white porcelain shined brightly, much to the general satisfaction after a good scrubbing. And then came the nightmare.

Not one soul tackled the toilet in the typical fashion. The handle was kept far away from their bodies, stirring around the walls chaotically. Looks were thrown to check on the progress, while the hand pinched the nose closed and prevented any more gags.

The girls howled, acknowledging only too well that in the afternoon, the laughter was on the boys. But the sight was too funny to show compassion.

Theo and a few others appeared to have weak stomachs and vomited, embarrassed. Luckily, there was a friend at their side to hand them a glass of water in support. It did smell awful. Between the gags and the stirs, they succeeded in getting the toilet clean.

Two down, one to go.

-oOo-

"I don't care about the order of tasks that Molly suggests. I'm doing that awful one first." Hermione based her decision on the way Harry handled things. It really looked like the task from hell.

"Can't we ease it up?"

"Have you saw those wanna-be Auror's of elves? We deal with the nasty first, leaving the less filthy for last." Ginny concluded.

"Did you see Theo puke? It must stink like dragon dung."

"Pansy, you'll figure it out." Stealthily, Hermione sent Draco a fresh air bubble to ease his discomfort, receiving a smile of gratitude.

-oOo-

Harry adjusted the cd to the right track gesturing to Hermione wordlessly,  _watch me!_  He took his duster, flipped the music on and impersonated Freddie Mercury while dusting away. Mouthing  _I want to break free!_

"Potter, are you for real?"

"Yes, Malfoy, this is how you do it."

The hilarity in the stands grew, as they watched the group of friends brush left and right, the opposite arm outstretched. Even Minerva and Molly doubled over in laughter but didn't intervene, nor did the elves.

To aid in the fun factor, Harry took the magical version of a vacuum cleaner and showed how it was done, shortly followed by every wizard around, who were oblivious to the ridiculous and far from efficient method employed.

But the loud bursts of laughter became suspicious, Blaise and Draco exchanging sceptical looks, "Mrs Weasley, are we doing this correctly?"

"Oh, yes, definitely." Her shoulders shook, while she tried to keep a stern face. Minerva had to turn away before she cracked in front of the Slytherins.

The reassurance ended in increasing the suspicion, especially as Draco watched Hermione double over in laughter.

"Potter, are you messing with us?"

"I wouldn't dare." Harry cracked, "Oh man, look at your faces!" He roared in laughter. It brought even Ron to a stop, "You took it meekly. Merlin, this is too much." He slapped his thigh, "Ha ha."

"You'll pay for this, you know?" Draco threatened him, but even he could see the fun of it.

"Wait, give me a minute to put on my face of fear for the Death Eater." His seriousness lasted precisely two seconds.

"Don't fear me, fear her!" Draco jerked his head towards a certain witch.

"I'm sorry to break your bubble, mate, but your girl is nearly peeing her pants in laughter." Indeed, Hermione's smile couldn't be more extensive.

-oOo-

It took them a while to regain control, but the dusting was brought to an end; the men approaching the bench with the lifeless dolls which became nasty little brats upon touch.

The elf explained, "Remove nappy, clean the little behind, sprinkley talc powder and put on new nappy."

"Why are all these dolls boys?"

Molly answered Blaise's question, "You'll find out soon enough."

Removing the slacks went relatively well, but then began the nightmare. The babies wiggled away and kicked with their legs, turning the simple task into torture.

Draco wrinkled when he held the nappy by a corner, throwing it into the basket decisively, "Can't you stop moving?" Alas, instead of keeping it still and give him the chance to clean the area with a wet towel, the doll sprayed him wet full on the face. "Oh, son of a banshee, what the fuck?"

A quick look to the left taught him he wasn't the only lucky fellow. "Lesson learned, Mrs. Weasley." Blaise sounded defeated, "Never change your son's nappy without covering the little bits."

"Correct, Mr. Zabini, it's a lesson I learned when I changed Billy's first nappy." Molly felt satisfaction, watching the event unfold. Arthur had somehow always known how to escape such accidents. "Beware, gentlemen. Little girls do the same…" Ginny didn't like to be exposed in such a way, but she took the advice to heart.

Multiple profanities and pleas later, the dolls finally stilled when a dry nappy was around their little arses. The last hurdle was: lift the baby to show the nappy was securely fastened. Unfortunately, Ron's and Theo's weren't, both being flooded with a new spray as a result.

-oOo-

Pansy sighed, "We are definitely getting an elf for the nursery care. No way my offspring is going to attack me."

"It's all about technique, Pans. Don't leave their little crotch out in the open, and you're safe."

Ginny added to Hermione's advice, "Be happy if my mum doesn't make us change the other type of nappy, the smelly one."

Daphne decided, "I'm bringing a mask, and those gloves are only coming off after all is done."

"Great idea, Daph." Pansy did a mental list:  _the music, no wine, better gloves and a double thick mask._

-oOo-

In the end, all wizards felt exhausted as if they had run ten miles. Luckily, most of them found comfort in the arms of one witch or another who came to pat them for the courage shown.

"Love, please. Let us keep Tibby for the cleaning." Draco let Hermione cuddle him, deciding this was a task he prefered not to do manually. "He's a free and paid elf. I promise to increase his salary!"

"Didn't you like cleaning the pot?"

"Tell me what you think of it after you're done. I'm certain you'll despise it as much as I did."

"What did you think of the nappy?"

"I'll use a sticking charm on the kid, I'm a wizard!"

"Poor wizard, defeated by a little one who can't even walk."

"Witch, I have already a bone to pick with your spectacled brother!"

"You make a nice blond Freddie Mercury, you know?"

"Funny. Now give me a decent kiss, I'm scarred for life."


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm offering you today a funny chapter hoping that in return you brighten my spirit, after a very difficult day. My Magzillasaurus was my beta angel, once again xxx

**Chapter Eighteen**

"My back hurts."

"I can't feel my arms."

"My nose is intoxicated!"

"Oh, my heart breaks for all of you," Ginny lamented with her hand against her chest, "You had all worked so hard, poor babies. Pansy, can you please comfort my brother while Daphne attends to the other poor soul? Blaise, you look green in the face." The redhead patted Harry's face gently, "I'm so glad you're such a brave man." The wizard didn't hide his amusement.

Daphne battled her eyelashes, "It such a pity that our Slytherins don't have more courage to tackle a difficult hurdle. The world is really up to the women."

"Yo, sister, don't exaggerate, that filthy toilet is waiting for us…" Pansy reined in Daphne. It was their turn after lunch. "'Herms' my girl, can you watch over your pale wizard, he looks a bit grey…"

"Don't worry, I know how to revive him." She rubbed Draco's hair as if it was Crookshanks she was patting. "You're scarred for life, eh darling? Poor wizard."

"Do you know how gross the whole session was? Plus, your face wet from a baby's pee, no thank you."

"Tell me what will you do if your son needs a fresh nappy?"

"Yell after the elf, love. They love it." Something told him it wasn't the correct answer. This was a fish to fry when the time came, and not a second before. "Have mercy, Hermione."

"My heart breaks for you. Really."

Ron added his two knuts for the first time, "It reeked, it pissed in my face, and the pile seemed to grow instead of diminishing. I'm not doing household tasks, it's official. I'll employ one of those damn elves."

"Ronald."

"The elf will be freed, I'll pay him a salary and give him clothes, 'Mione. Don't worry…"

This whole test was becoming the opposite of her intentions, by the looks of it. Vengeance and proving the usefulness of a house-elf compared to her initial 'share in the household tasks as Muggles do'.  _Even Ron was a lost cause, damn..._

-oOo-

The witches had paid proper attention to the wizard's test and all appeared with extra supplies. Extra long gloves, mouth masks like those of the Healers at St. Mungos and hair in a knot above their heads for the extra practical measure.

"Do you ladies require a new rundown of events?"

"No, Mrs. Weasley, we know what to do." Pansy was extra sticky sweet, it looked more and more that Molly was going to be her mother-in-law, a good first impression was imperative.

"Molly, we'll do all these tasks but according to our own order."  _The sooner I've cleaned that pot, the better._  "If we may?" Hermione counted on the soft side of Ron's mother to achieve her goal.

The head house-elf wanted to intervene, but McGonagall outdid him, "Yes, of course, my dear. In the end, all tasks have to be accomplished, if you choose another sequence, so be it."

Boombox was fired up, filling the room with upbeat sounds, the musical motivators as it were, in the shape of the funky "Le Freak".

The girls-gang as Ginny had named them, tackled the toilet first, brushes high in the air. "Prepare to die at the hands of a Weasley, filthy pot!" The mood was set.

Hermione and Ginny made it short shrift, brushing the filthiness away with vigorous moves, the white porcelain bit by bit appearing beneath the dirt. They flushed it often enough to see the results and dissipate the smell that still intruded through the mask.

Daphne and Pansy copied every move, but their progress was less quick because of the lack of power. Daphne courageously attacked her issue, holding the thought that if the men could, so could she.

Pansy, however, flushed more than scrubbed and between one of those flushes, her brush got sucked up. "Damn you, you can't have my brush, demon. Give it back!" She pulled with all her might, both hands on the handle. It didn't move an inch. "Hermione, this thing is attacking me! Arghhhh!" She pulled. And pulled, feet spread for more leverage. And pulled harder.

A weird gurgling sound was the bad omen.

"Give me this shitty thing back, wanker!" That last push was one too many. A whole brown flush of water soaked Pansy up from head to toe, covering her in the gunk she cleaned minutes before. She froze for a moment before screaming her lungs out in disgust, overpowering the sound of the music.

Hermione and Ginny were stunned but ran to the witch to clean all they could, while the house-elves - officially labelled as rascals later that day - laughed their heads off, foot stomping included, joined by the majority of the wizards watching. The Slytherins knew better than to ridicule their friend, her vengeance known to be delivered without remorse; however, it bubbled in their bellies to burst into laughter as well.

The surprise wasn't entirely over. A ginger blur ran down the stands to the despaired witch, wand in hand, "I've got you, Pansy.  _Scourgify_. Don't cry anymore, look, baby, look it's all gone." The room went quiet, aside from the music in the background.

Slowly, Pansy perceived her clean body, stared at the blushing wizard who was panting, and pulled him into a heated embrace, kissing the hell out of him. Molly was stunned, McGonagall laughed behind a hand, and the laughs from the stand became howls of cheering. Loud applause rose over the full room.

Embarrassed with the attention, Ron stumbled back to his place, his face blushing deeper than ever.

"Man, we owe you one." Blaise looked in awe at the Gryffindor.

Draco extended a hand, which was accepted, absentmindedly, "You've got my respect, Weasley. We won't forget this."

Molly broke the moment, by clapping her hands, "Back to work, ladies!"

The incident had a benefit, the toilet was cleaned thoroughly from the power of the water flush. Relieved Pansy picked up the sponge and scrubbed the sink clean, with shaky moves.

"Pansy, are you alright?

"Hermione, tell me, can this thing explode too?"

"No…" Hermione chuckled softly, "It's safe." She rubbed Pansy's back soothing, "I guess it's official now, Molly saw you two kiss."

"He's a hero!" The genuine compliment was covered with adoration. Hermione suspected that from now on, Ron could do no harm, in the girl's eyes.

-oOo-

From the bathroom task to the dishwashing duty. As Harry suspected, the pile grew almost invisible a few times before it decreased; Hermione was going to have a decent chat with the Headmistress, about the elves' behaviour. Something was clearly amiss in the housekeeping department.

Showing Pansy and Daphne step by step how to clean the pots, both witches were visibly relieved that their nails were safely inside the rubber gloves. Daphne had at first soaked the pots, remembering Harry's advice earlier; sharing the tip with her best friend, who nodded gratefully.

"Hermione, a bit more and I'm barbequing the fattest of the house-elves if I hear them giggle one more time." Ginny felt murderous, blowing off a bubble of soap from her nose.

"I didn't think they would be so cruel, it's like they are picking a bone with us, a long overdue bone by the looks of it."

-oOo-

"Your Ginny is sending deadly looks at the Elves."

"Hermione is the biggest Elves-friendly person, but even she seems to be at the end of her tether too. Malfoy, have you ever saw an elf ridicule a witch before?"

"No, and they should feel happy that Pansy didn't have her wand on her, or blood would have been spilt."

"Ron was her hero."

"I guess the man can do no wrong from now on, Potter."

-oOo-

They puffed and grunted, but in the end, the stuck-on remains came loose, with the victory cries of several witches; escaping hairs were shoved behind ears, heads looked up to the ceiling, here and there a raised arm. Hermione was no better, expressing her relief. "I almost thought there came no end to the torture."

"Don't tell Theo, but I feel it in my arms too."

"We don't say a word to the wizards, we mocked them earlier and now are complaining about the same issues. If the Ministry ever re-uses your plan, they must tackle this house-elf revenge affair, it stings." Pansy's remark was not off the mark.

Daphne stretched, cracking her back loudly, "The dusting, Hermione, show us how it's really done, don't give us the dramatic version please."

"It was fun, though…"

"We had more fun than we need, for one day, in my opinion."

"First, the duster and then the vacuum, or you may restart dusting again." Hermione sought the feathery tool.

"However girls, nothing is stopping us from dancing the frustration off. Sis, pump up the volume!" Searching for the exact track was a piece of cake, as it was one of Hermione's favourites to clean to. 'Pump up the Volume' filled the room, louder than the previous tunes.

"Missus, music is too loud for the house-elves!" The chief among the elves tapped his foot annoyingly in a contra-beat.

"Put cheese in your ears, you little rascals." Payback could really feel amazing, thought the brunette, increasing the sound some more. The house-elf huffed, but she threatened, "Listen, you mean devil, complain harder, and I'll increase the volume. Now get lost!" She did feel murderous at this point.

The staring contest continued, angered eyes versus hand above the button. Until McGonagall intervened, "Use a noise-cancelling spell, Pesky, I'm sorry, I meant Peachy." As they all hoped, Minerva planned already to have a chat once back inside the castle's walls.

Hermione one, Peachy nought.

-oOo-

"At this point, I'm sure the spewy thing from Hermione is dying a slow death. She was out for blood." Harry chuckled, recognising a pissed-off witch in her glory.

"When Hermione's ire hits the fan, hide your skin!" Ron had been on the end of her wand enough times to know the drill. "In your case, Malfoy, steer away from her left hand."

It was still vivid in his head, the blond rubbing his cheek at the memory. "Thanks for the advice, I haven't forgotten it."

-oOo-

Music did make dusting easier, hips wiggled as much as heads went from left to right. Forgetting their frustrations about certain little creatures, Hermione and Ginny engaged in a "Kiss" choreography: tight waist movements, using the back of the dusters as microphones.

Prince's beat became the beat of their dusting, both women dropping and raising in a sensual move back up. They forwent their buns, releasing their manes in the air because dancing with your hair waving around felt more than liberating. Between their laughters: sensual snake rolls, head slams and hip wiggling.

Finally, the song moved on to a less heated tune, Ginny high-fiving Hermione in comradeship.

"Girl, you are going to teach us how to dance, Herms." Pansy looked between jealousy and awe. "If there's one wizard up there without a boner, then he's an eunuch."

It woke them from their daydream, "What?"

Daphne had a wistful tone, "You drew all the attention, clearly unwillingly. I want to learn it as well, not to seduce, but there's something about dancing like that."

Ginny wrapped her hair again above her head, "It's all Misses fault here, with her telly music movies. I knew bollocks about dancing until she showed me, how is it called? MKD?"

"MTV, Ginny."

"You should see how Muggle girls dance, Pans. Shorts just below your arse, high heels and hair super wild." To demonstrate it, the bun was destroyed once more, fingers losing up the strands to spread it open. "Like this, right, Hermione?"

"Yep, and you forget about the tank tops just up to here," Hand showed the line below the bosom, "Some really have flat and tight bellies."

"Just as you do, there's not one ounce of fat too much on you, neither on me." Forgetting their surroundings, Ginny rose her shirt and patted her tummy.

"Where do we find that M-thing?"

"Tomorrow, gathering at my house, put on some sports attire, I going to make you sweat!"

-oOo-

"Malfoy, Ginny dances like this at home, behind closed doors, if you get what I mean."  _Was Potter showing off or sharing advice?_

"What are you suggesting?"

"I've heard that song multiple times, and it leads to more than gratifying other activities, the type you also must be acquainted with," Harry spoke without staring at the blond for once. This was boy's talk, even if it came with the blush to go along. "I'm just saying, do as you wish…"

"Where did Hermione learn all this? Not from McGonagall."

"Oh please, don't give me that mental image!" Harry hid his face in his hands, "Does Minerva even know dancing steps other than the Waltz?"

"Probably not."  _Potter can be entertaining,_ "Mate, where did she learn all this? I'll have to forbid her from dancing this seductively in front of other blokes."

"Good luck with forbidding Hermione to do something…"

"Potter, aren't you jealous of all other wizards oggling your girl's assets? Only eunuchs don't have a boner just now!"

"Malfoy, in the end, I'm the one taking her home and - pardon my English - fucking her into the mattress. Not them."

"Potter, you have that luxury, I don't."

"Yet."

-oOo-

The fun kicked in, Hermione sticking her tongue out to a nearby elf, while she vacuumed around as if she was flying a broom.

"Is that how it goes?"

"No, Daphne, but I don't care about how it goes any longer. It's this, or me knocking on a house-elf's head with my duster. Let them sue me." She stopped giving a shit about the test, at a certain point; the idea was to be able to adjust, not to be bossed around by some creature that barely reached her waist.

"Missus missed a spot." Peachy was on the warpath, lecturing finger pointing at the corner.

"Do it yourself, Pussy."

"The names is Peachy, not Pussy."

"After I'm done with you, you'll sing like a pussy!" Evil Hermione made an appearance. "Sho!" There must have been a glint in her eye, to make the elf retreat some steps. A chin jerk followed, satisfied. Her rebellious demeanour was copied around the room.

The final stage: the nappy.

Being restricted by the Headmistress to hex the participants, the elves tweaked the content of the baby's diaper, with a click of a finger. Peachy did it, in slow motion, staring Hermione in the eye with a revengeful glare.

Minerva whispered to Molly, "I don't understand what's going on…"

"I guess you must have a talk with your staff, Minerva. Frustrations are being vented, in a most unpleasant way. I'm glad you decreed a no-magic against any wizard before we started, or blood might have spilt by now."

"I'm making notes of this event, they are really frustrated somehow…"

The witches who approached the bench with the doll, were oblivious for a few seconds until they laid hands on the babies.

A general "Ugh!" floated around, all disgust, the nappy's content was the smelly one.

"Hey, you tiny little shit, the blokes had the pee!" Pansy was furious, it was the second time today she had to deal with real shit.

The elves' mocking grins left nothing to the imagination.

-oOo-

"Is it normal for elves to be so vengeful?" Harry asked around, unfamiliar with the creatures' normal demeanours.

"Hell no, and Hermione's rebellion is only going to increase their vengeance. They can be little shits if they really want." Theo focussed on Luna who was peeling of the garments of the baby with a dreamy smile on his face,  _nothing really tears her down. She's awesome._

"Yet, my girl a hellcat alright." Draco couldn't hide the adoration, wand discreetly in hand to counteract any hex from that annoying elf who always came to harass his witch. Previously, he had cast a silent  _Protego_  during the dusting confrontation. He had her back, outside her knowledge. Life at home would never be boring, so much he knew already.

-oOo-

The wave of poo stench took the breath away from every witch, "How can little things produce such a nasty nappy." Ginny was grossed out.

"Daughter, I wiped your behind often enough wondering the exact same thing…"

"Mum, not in front of others…"

The smell was nothing compared to the sight, a few women gagging soundly in the background.

Daphne lost her poise, "I'm only tackling one of these with tweezers and gloves from now one, and a fresh air bubble. Or, wait a minute, I know a better option! I'll put Blaise on the job!"

"Blaise eh?" Pansy rolled her eyes with extra drama, thinking similarly about Ron, "We must learn a spell to make the nappy spill its secrets before opening; we take the front part, our men deal with the backside. It's official."

-oOo-

"Ron, my man, the glare in their eyes promises nothing good."

"Blaise, I feel you, but we can't do a thing about it, can we?"

"Employ a house-elf." Draco was glad that he didn't have had such a dirty task this morning, "I'll free the damn creature, pay it a decent salary, but hell if I'm changing one of those nasty things."

"I need to see it happen first, Malfoy. It's Hermione we're talking about, you don't get away so easily, my friend. If it's a consolation, neither will I, knowing Ginny the way I do."  _What a shame that wizard nappies didn't clean themselves automatically…_

-oOo-

Hermione gagged, she was only so strong. But, hell would freeze first if she was going to give the rascal the pleasure of seeing her chicken out of her own test. This particular job was a creation of her own, one that was biting her in the arse, spectacularly.

She opened the nappy and closed it right back.  _That's an excellent example of really dirty shit._  Breathing deeply in and out, she sucked in some air and opened once more the disgusting diaper. Wet towel in hand, she wiped the brownish content from the skin, giggling when she had to raise the little appendage to clean underneath. Remembering Draco's issue from this morning, she laid a wet towel over the tiny penis, before it would bless her with wetness to the face. The smell was already gross enough.

A few benches away, Luna announced in a musical tone, "Oh, his back is full of brownish poo. Little baby, why did you do this to your mummy?"

Ginny looked up, gulped at the sight, noticing the mess but also how Luna really thought to be dealing with a real baby. Hermione exchanged a knowing look but returned to her own mess at hand. She ran out of wet towels, plus a pair of extra hands to keep the wiggling kid in place. It was then that she fully understood why Draco suggested using a sticking charm.

As if it was part of the program, the protective layer over the crotch fell on the ground, and a flux of pee wetted Hermione's face and by the sound of the curse on her left, also Ginny's. The accusing frown was rewarded with a loud shrill cry from a so-called scared baby.  _This was too much like the real thing to be just a fake_ , thought both women. A bit more and you would almost decide to remain childless.

Hermione nearly duelled with her baby; Pansy screamed orders non-stop to hers, and Ginny cursed fluently. Daphne was at the end of her wits. Only Luna kept cooing to the baby, cleaning all the mess patiently away.

"Luna, you're officially promoted to a nanny. Where do you find your patience?"

"It's all about the Nargles who love to bully the poor baby. Sing to him, and he relaxes." She kept mumbling to the babydoll who, on the contrary of the others, was much calmer.

"I can't sing, Lovegood!"

"Oh, the baby doesn't mind if you sing off-key, Pansy. Try a lullaby."

"I don't know those either!"

"Ron will give you a Christmas book with children's songs, I'm sure."

Daphne taunted, "Unless he gives her a cookbook first!"

"Thank you for the vote of confidence, ladies." Pansy tried to sing, but instead of calming down, the cry only intensified, as if it begged the witch to stop with the audible torture.

Hermione gave Luna's advice a try, the baby calming down visibly, entranced by her soft voice. The rewarding smile charmed her.  _I'll be damned._

-oOo-

From afar, Pansy was already telling her wizard how their life would be organised, "Ron Weasley, we are getting a house-elf for the cooking and one for the babysitting. I fail at both." However, the demands sounded more as confessions than orders. "I only know how to be pretty. I don't dance, I can't sing, I can't clean…"

Ron hugged her, "Oh, darling. Don't be sad, we'll figure it out…" He was at a loss, honestly. Pansy lacked talent at everything his mother excelled at, his deepest wish, in the beginning, was to find a woman that could compare to her. Pansy was the complete and chaotic opposite. But, her smile, her passion and her adoration was so worth it…  _Should I ask my dad for advice?_

Draco welcomed his witch with open arms. She sought safety curled against his chest, "I don't want to hear the name House-elf for the rest of the week!" His deep chuckle giving her the comfort she desperately needed.

"I'll tell Tibby."

"I was this far from kicking the ass of that Pussy-Peachy-Pesky thing." Fingers barely spread, "Don't laugh, I mean it!" She poked him in the chest, "That rascal drew the blood from under my nails, and I know I've always been friendly to them." Hermione growled. "I want to smash something tonight."

"Sister, me too!" Ginny clearly got the yips. "If I get my hands on that creep…"

"We'll be known as the Elves-torturers, I'll help." Pansy didn't forget their mocking either.

Harry suggested, "We can go bowling in Muggle London?"

"Perfect, Harry!" His suggestion, a gods gift.

Blaise raised his both hands, "Hold your hippogriffs, and explain to the simple folk what the hell is bowing?"

Harry gave the short version, "You slam a ball against pins to smash them down. The easy way to work out frustration with zero bloodshed."

Draco decided for everyone, "We're bowing." Rather the pins than his chest.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Magzillasaurus - god bless her beta-editing talent - described this chapter as hilarious. You are warned, and no it's not the pageant. That's a bun I'm cooking... lol. Don't say you're not warned.

**Chapter Nineteen**

Bloomsbury Bowling Lane was the place to be in downtown Muggle London, if you searched for a fancy looking bowling alley straight out of retro-America, with luxurious sofas, serving deep pan American pizzas and offering DJ music to give the whole package a funky feel.

It was Harry's first thought, meant to release today's pent up frustration, knowing the love for dancing from his two favourite witches and how the other women had enjoyed the pub the other day. They waited to check in, the next in line behind a group that was pretty evenly sized as theirs, "Hermione, we'll need a massive confundo or that last lane is going to be bye-bye right under our noses."

"Cover us, and we'll handle it." Draco joined forces with his talented witch and, hidden behind the wall Blaise and Harry created, they confused the party of eight before them; high-fiving in the shape of a quick peck on the lips. "We're the best."

"Stop being cocky, you get this inflated look on your face." Her hand waved in front of his face, show-off Malfoy made an appearance.

"I'll give you all the inflated you need when we're alone."

Blaise sneered, "We don't need to be part of your foreplay, you two. Keep the bed-talk for the bedroom, please and thank you!"

The group was led to the last unoccupied lane, retro leather sofas waiting to be claimed. A waitress on rollerskates - loudly chewing on her bubblegum - approached with the menus, requesting their order for drinks.

"Love, what should I order?" He barely recognised a listed beverage.

"Do you prefer non-alcohol or would you rather try a beer?"

"Beer as in butterbeer?"

"Less sugar, more alcohol. Or you have the fizzy drinks like at my place, the cola or the orange lemonade?"

"Potter, what are you drinking?" He was into something new, expanding his taste for Muggle food and drinks.

"I'm taking an ale, I'll switch later for a soda before I get so wasted that I can't find my way home..." Harry wiped his eyeglasses on the tip of his shirt, cursing the fog on the lenses.

"Was my advice not enough?" Someone felt ignored.

"Love, I listened to your suggestion, but I wanted a male input. Don't be mad, you are my favourite Muggleborn." He perused the menu with all the pizza flavours, "Which is your pick?"

"The barbecue, I love the smokey taste of the sauce and the bacon."

"Watch me order the same. See? I listen to your suggestion and follow it?"

"My suggestion would be, smart arse, take something else, and we can nip from both pizzas."

He saw her point, perusing the menu again, "Princess, I don't know what tuna is, pineapple together with ham is that even edible? What the hell is sal-ami?"

"Salami? In French, it translates into a dirty friend,  _ami salé_. In fact, it's a quite seasoned sausage. It gives some spice to the ham without being flaming hot."

"Can we try this all mix up full of vegetables? It has peppers, mushrooms, your dirty friend, corn…"

"The tuna is fish, Draco. I like that one also, its salty in the mouth; but we'll do it at another time. You pick your royal mix, I go for the bacon barbeque, and we eat from both."

It surprised Draco again, how easily they got to an agreement. Hermione's reasoning skills were quite refreshing compared to the foot-down from Pansy or any other Pureblood witch. He could recall the times one or another used tears to get their will accomplished, often losing in the end. He could be as stubborn as them if need be.

Hermione suggested, discussed the pros and cons and accepted his opinion without a fuss. One more thing he really appreciated about her, she was like a true partner…

The ale came, and he enjoyed the taste of malt on his tongue, "Nice drink, Potter. I'm starting to think that we are kind of limited within our Wizard ways."

"In a way, we are. We don't have pizzas, we stick to the traditional British cuisine and don't try what's on the other side of the pond, drinks are also less varied. Cola - Ron's favourite, mine is the lime-lemon drink called Sprite or 7up depending on the place where we end up, there is more to enjoy than tea, pumpkin juice and butterbeer. It's not healthier, by far, too much sugar. Hermione's parents cringed when we drank those, complaining about the damage to our teeth."

"That's true, they never stopped fussing about it." Hermione sipped from her Fanta, seeing her glass be hijacked for a taste. Draco bobbed his head in approval. " _You'll ruin your teeth, Hermione!_ " She impersonated her mother.

"I think I don't mind not discovering what dentihealers exactly do. By what I've heard, your parents have quite a scary profession." The thought of a drill close to his precious teeth gave Draco the shivers. Hermione nudged him while making room on the table for all their pizzas.

The purebloods sought the cutlery, but Harry demonstrated, "It's like a barbeque, eat with your hands." A string of cheese followed his bite, and he kept nipping until it finally ripped off. He grinned with his mouth covered in tomato sauce.

Pansy and Daphne looked around at the other tables but found not one girl eating her food according to the table etiquette; in the end, they surrendered under pressure with a napkin under their triangle, against the seeping grease. The fluffy dough received everyone's approval, turning their dinner into a pizza party, tasting everyone's choice to decide which was their favourite.

Harry's spicy chicken was the preference of the men, while the girls wavered between the smoky taste of barbecue or the salty flavour of smoked salmon with a drizzle of lemon.

Harry spoke between bites, "Hey guys, you should pay attention to how the other lanes are playing, get the hang of how the game is done."

"You choose a ball, you swing your arm, and you knock all the pins down." As Blaise described it, it seemed like walk in the park.

"Exactly, Zabini. I invite you to choose ball sixteen and do a strike." Harry smiled as a true Slytherin.

"I don't know what the catch is, but I accept your challenge. If you win…"

"You'll drink a shot per lost point."

Daphne jumped in, "Plus tongue-kiss a wizard from the opposite house!" A blush rose on her face, after her bold words.

"Wait, how many points could that be?"

"The strike itself can go to a maximum of a nineteen." Harry was calculating how many shots that could be in its entirety. "It leaves you with at least ten shots of tequila to drink if you end up in the worst case scenario knocking down zero pins."

"Granger, if I do this strike of his…" Blaise was thinking about the counter service.

"You could say that he has to drink the shots of your bonus, doubled."

"I don't follow, Granger."

"Allow me a minor lecturing, the points of the strike are determined by your next turn. The amount of pins is the bonus on the top of the ten. For example, if you knock down four pins on your second go, you get fourteen for the strike."

"And he would have to drink quickly calculated, eight shots."

"Exactly, plus Daphne wants you to kiss a wizard from the opposite house, I say he has to, likewise."

"If I lose, I'll snog Ronald dear."

"Hell no!" Pansy scowled, "Use Potter."

"Nope, I always wanted to taste a redhead." Blaise winked at Ginny. "Potter, who will you snog?"

"Malfoy. I'm taking a page out of your book and will rile up my best friend as you do. Are we doing this?"

Hands were shaken, "You're on, mate. Draco, I'll frame your kissy-kiss with scarhead here, and publish it on the Prophet. House unity and such..."

To a stranger, it looked as longtime friends were taking a joke on each other, instead of recently nemeses turned friends.

"Harry, the stakes are high, if Blaise has beginners luck..."

Luna remarked, "Neither of them should have their wands during that game, to keep it all fair play." Everyone nodded except the two in question, who already planned to draw the winning to them. "Hermione, will you hold them?"

"No, I'm not impartial enough… you take them, no one will suspect you of messing up." Denying the logic was hard.

The waitress set down a new round of drinks and cleared the table of the empty plates, while Hermione and Harry set up the monitor for their games. "On the screens, you can follow the progress, Harry will you do the honours to open the game?"

Cracking his fingers, he chose a fourteen-ball and threw it fluently over the lane.

Hermione settled on Draco's lap, "Princess, will you explain to me what this is all about? What's the fuss about the sixteen and this strike."

"Strike is when you knock down all the pins in one throw." She stopped to cheer for Harry, his score is at eight, the wizard now helping his girl with her try. "If you throw it in two tries, it's called a spare, and you also get ten points plus the score of your first ball in the second round, instead of the score from both balls. I'll show you when it happens." Ginny succeeded in only knocking down two pins at the second try, the slow mocking applause was rewarded by the finger. Ron's turn.

Her explanations got more audience than first, "The sixteen Harry mentioned is the actual weight in pounds of one of those balls, being sixteen the heaviest, the lightest weights only six pounds, see that orange ball over there with a six on it? That's what it means. I prefer a ten personally, above becomes for me too heavy to swing decently; lower doesn't have the power I need to reach and knock down one of those pins."

"How difficult is it to knock down a strike?"

"The professional players know how to aim and such, but me? Mostly luck." Ron did better than Ginny, with his three pins. The first Slytherin was up, Pansy. "Watch, Draco."

"Don't laugh at her, she can't handle loss too well."

"Who says I can?" She cheered as Pansy succeeded in aiming a ball to the sides, "Great move, Pansy! Do it again!"

"Agh, thanks, love you too." Pansy stuck her tongue out.

The second ball followed the first, "Pansy, there's a saying, bad luck in the games, good luck in love."

"Let me laugh, har har har." The comment missed its bitchy sneer, times did change. "Draco, darling, it's your turn."

"Which ball should I take?"

"Start with a twelve or a fourteen? Raise them to have a feel and choose then…" She walked with him to the ball machine, "Take this one, the finger holes are larger."

Taking her advice on board, he tested his options and gave the preference to the fourteen, hooking his fingers inside the holes. In the lane next to his, another bloke took the balance and swung his arm with quite a power. He copied the man, whirled his arm back and sent the ball flying, almost losing his balance in the process; the weight slightly underestimated.

He knocked out eight of the ten in one swing, "Yes!" He beamed but scratched his head, wondering how to take down the other two, while they were the furthest apart.

"You can't Draco, try to reach one of the two. It's nearly impossible for the professionals, much less for a newbie." Hermione's remark doused a little of his enthusiasm, while he searched for a second fourteen. Impatient, he gave the sixteen a try, feeling the weight well on his biceps. The intention to aim for the right turned, in reality, into a trail to the left, but nevertheless, he was rewarded with the fall of the ninth.

"Potter, I guess I'm better at this."

"Oh no, we're not turning the night into a competition between two egos." Hermione swatted Draco's arse, "Or I'll…"

"Help me, Potter! I'm scared!" Everyone roared.

By then, Hermione found her ten, retreated a few steps and with her leap, she threw the correctly aimed strike.

The girls applauded while the boys snorted, "Beginner's luck."

From a nearby lane, one of the blokes whistled, "Nice move, lovely."

Draco pushed her closer against his body, claiming his witch. The fun had evaded his expression. To calm his fury, she kissed him fully on the mouth, "You're my man, relax."

He pulled her tightly, dominating her, "Hmm."

Blaise was up, and not being the man to retreat on his word, he chose the similar sixteen from Draco, grunting lowly from exertion. His first swing was poorly placed, and the ball landed in the gutter halfway down lane. Harry and Ron applauded loudly, while the rest watched in suspense. Bummed, the tension was readable on his face. Take two; the waiting time for the ball only increasing his nerves.

He snaked the ball out of the tunnel, and put all his might into the new swing, to see slowly how the ball again leaned to the right… his fingers flexed around his wand, a detail both wizards forgot. "Be the better man and accept your loss, Blaise. It's just a game." Daphne rubbed his wand-arm away, talking with her face leaning over his shoulder, "Do it for me."

"You ground me, woman."

"With pleasure." All eyes were on the nine pins, two were down, and the third wavered.

Breaths were held.

Grunts and cheering followed, the third held on. "Zab's, mate, it's seven shots for you! Hee hee."

"Did Potter just giggle?"

"I guess he did, Draco." Hermione chuckled, "Check out Ron and your Pansy…" Both flushing aware of the consequences.

Pansy snorted, "Daph, you're a great friend, wait until I find a decent payback!"

"It's just a kiss, not a marriage proposal…" Daphne waved it off, more concerned how drunk Blaise could become from tequila on the top of all the beer he already had consumed. "Do we have any pepper-up potions?"

"My dear, I'll be crashing at your place tonight, to avoid splinching." Blaise was planning ahead, knocking down a quarter of his ale, probably the third glass by now.

"You can sleep on the sofa at Draco's."

"Not happening. Blaise cuddles when he's wasted, right Theo?"

"How many nights did he crawl with us in bed, completely pissed…"

"Countless." The memory brought a mocking smile to Draco's face, during the times when the Dark Lord was remote passage in history, and their only fear was being caught outside curfew hours, smoking and getting pissed at the Astronomy tower.

The next round of bowling started a bit later, with Luna cheering for her talent to hit the gutter and Theo shaking his head in adoration, while he knew the game was way different than what she had in mind.

In the end, only Hermione and Daphne succeeded in smashing a strike, Draco and Harry engaged in a neck in neck race with two spares and a few zeros also, Blaise not even once achieving cleaning the lane.

The boy's group on the lane at their left focussed heavily on the Hogwarts witches, whistling provocatively while the girls aimed their best shots. It took Harry and Blaise all their effort to soothe the anger of Draco and Ron, especially when one of them shouted " _The brunette and her dark-haired friend would fit better with us... we have cookies_."

Probably the level of consumed alcohol played a particular part, for once a Weasley and a Malfoy combining forces  _to teach those wankers a lesson_. The peace returned only when both witches dragged their wizards to the sofa and sat on their laps, grounding them with promises for later that night.

"It's shots time!" Harry ordered a bottle and enough glasses, pouring everyone a drink. "I want you to test it, but our man here is going to slam eight of these back and then kiss my mate over there." The embarrassment was nowhere to be spotted, all following Harry's lead taking the drink. Blaise bravely consumed the second and the third, having troubles focusing on the ones to follow, but stubbornly holding on under the loud cheers.

"Ah! Now I'm wasted enough for the next part. Come here, love of my life!" He pulled Ron's face abruptly, kissing him fully on the mouth. "My lifetime dream comes true! I've snogged a ginger!" Ron barely recovered from the shock, while all the others roared loudly in laughter.

Pansy took her wizard in her arms, "Think of my kiss instead, Ron." His confusion was obvious on his face, while accepting a heated kiss.

The stud from earlier wiggled his eyebrows suggestively on passing. Draco felt his anger return in full force, but Hermione was already a step ahead, forcing him to face her, "I don't like the wacko, I prefer blonds nowadays." The whole party startled when lights dimmed to focus on the dancing floor. "Come and dance with me."

-oOo-

It was way after midnight as they all stumbled back home. Blaise proved Draco and Theo's point by cuddling with Harry all the way to the apparition point, who wasn't entirely sober either, both singing medleys into the empty streets of London; unable to walk in a straight line. "Always look on the bright side of life!" sung on repeat with its corresponding whistle.

Luckily, Hermione cast a muffliato around the group to prevent disturbance to the neighbours. Her wizard leaned heavily on her too, his tolerance for muggle alcohol had reached his limits also, "Lovely swot of mine, do you know my father told me I was completely forbidden of even thinking to date you?" His splutter heavy on his speech. "He told me he would feed my willy to a dragon if I ever came home with you on my arm." He missed a step. "But I couldn't help it when you were so lovely dressed in that blue gown… a princess…"

Hermione chuckled, "Let's get you home, my knight. Next time we'll not be combining shots with ales…"

"My Herminny, have I told you already that I love you?" He pulled her to a full stop, a cheesy smile on his face, "I love you very much, Herminny, I want to make many, many babies with you, make our own Malfoy Quidditch team…" Hermione had to hoist him up, he was pulling her down. His drunk talk needed to end before he said something more embarrassing. "I had no idea mudbloods - no, no wait, ugly word, m'sorry, shouldn't say it. A new try," He hiccuped, "I had no idea my muggleborn was such a hot piece…"

"Now you've had enough, Malfoy. Let's get you home." If she could, she would dig a hole and hide in it, to escape the telling glares of Daphne and Ginny; Luna and Pansy were also in slightly over their head.

"Herminny, your tities are perfect, I can't wait to nibble on them."

"Ginny, are you talking these three with you?" Hermione motioned towards Harry, Ron and Pansy.

"Yes, don't worry. Take your wizard home before we discover more bed secrets." As she spoke, Ginny linked her cargo for a side-apparition, "Tonight was fun!"

Daphne had quite some trouble keeping her Blaise upright, he tried to kiss her lips despite his legs giving out, "I'll bring this clown to my home, he can sleep off his stupor on the sofa!" Blaise sang loudly into her ear, some Italian love song none recognised, "What a hero."

At last, it was only Hermione left, Draco still professing his love for her intimate parts, "I can't wait until I can dip my dick into your hot pussy, which tastes so good. Push my cock hard-"

"That's enough, my knight. Let's get you home..." He might be wasted, but his talk was flustering her.

"Can I have a little dip? Just a little one… I'm so hungry…"

"You can sleep on the sofa, Draco." Holding him tight, she apparated into her living room, grunting, he was a heavy bloke.

"No, not the sofa… love please…" Too tired to start arguing about the sleeping arrangements, she brought him to her bedroom, dumping his royal arse onto her bed. He beamed, "Much better, sweetie…" He snored loudly, falling asleep almost immediately.

"What a hero…" Hermione took care of his shoes, unhooking his belt and pulling his slacks off keeping his trunks in place. The shirt was transformed into a comfortable fitting t-shirt. Covering him with a sheet, she moved to the other side and pulled her nighty over her head. Barely stretched on the bed, he snaked an arm around her waist and curled around her frame, sighing contentedly. He was also a cuddler when wasted, after all...


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drops a smut alert.
> 
> Thanks once again, my amazing Magzillasaurus, for your outstanding beta work.
> 
> Leaves to go brainstorm on the most wanted chapter of this fic. I'm too sexy for my ...

**Chapter Twenty**

"Bloody hell, I don't feel good."

Hermione accio'ed a bucket from her bathroom just in time before the contents of Draco's stomach could soil her bed. He leaned back on the mattress to recover his breath but found faster than earlier the damn container for a new round. All the while Hermione rubbed his back with sleepy eyes.

It was three in the morning. No way they would be repeating shots and ales and a few other alcoholic drinks in one night. His tolerance for Muggle beverages wasn't up to the challenge.

"My head, fuck me…" Hand over his eyes against the dimmed light of her night lamp, he cursed his choices also. "Turn the bloody light off." He swallowed, "Please."

"Will you need the bucket again?" Her voice less pleasant as being commanded wasn't her favourite pastime.

"Woman, don't talk so loud…" He grunted, realising he was saying all the wrong things to his love interest. "My head hurts like hell, it's like a hippogriff knocking with his beak on the same spot all over again. Bonk, Bonk, Bonk."

"Don't complain, I didn't hear you turn down a drink earlier…" Instead, she soaked a cloth in her bathroom to put over his forehead, a gesture more than appreciated by the suffering wizard. The bucket was cleaned of its smelly content in a jiffy, but she let it remain next to his side of the bed. As for last, she gave him a fresh glass of water.

"Don't you have a sober-up potion?" Draco used the wet cloth to refresh his whole face, wiping away a bit of his ill humour and trying to regain her good graces.

"I don't need those." Hermione got inside of the bed sour looking, he kept sharing orders as if she was one of his house elves. Let him cook in his own juices for once.

"Aren't you worried?"

"You'll survive a hangover. No." Pulling more than her share of the sheet, she turned to the other side. Of sleep, alas, nothing came to pass **.**  She wasn't one to ignore a person in need, even if said person was the cause of his own problems. Draco kept turning and groaning from the mother of all headaches, by the sounds.

"Hermione…"

"You can be a whiny baby, do you know it? No different than Ron or Harry."

She turned roughly in bed, made the mattress shake heavy and he moaned. He was scratching shots out of his Muggle favourite drinks list. At first, her outstretched hand with a white pill in the palm didn't register, opening his eyes and the low lightening wasn't a good combination.

"Draco, take the damn medicine."

"What is that?"

"Poison. Anti-ferret drug." The way he looked at her, made her feel sorry for his suffering, "Draco, it's a regular painkiller. It will chase away the headache you feel, so you can sleep and let me sleep." She took it between two fingers and held it before his lips, holding the glass of water in her other hand. "I don't do well with shouting tyrants. Ask instead of commanding, or we'll have problems."

He accepted her pill, recognising the issue, "I'm sorry." The new glass of water felt like a blessing, his mouth felt as dry as a parchment sheet. She got in bed, and he curled around her body, seeking comfort. "Stop me from drinking so much next time."

Her hands soothed him, rubbing his scalp in hypnotic rotating gestures. Her heartbeat under his ears lulled him into sleep, especially when his head was resting against the softest pillow he knew, her breasts. He snuggled deeper and surrendered to his exhaustion.

His witch, however, was wide awake. Draco somehow belonged inside her arms; pulling him closer against her frame. It took her almost an hour to find peace, his warm breath against her breasts, and a hand close to her lower half turning her into a horny mess and she had to employ images of Umbridge to steer away from the arousing thoughts her mind was crowded with.

He was at this point no human being who could perform on that field, anyway.

-oOo-

Someone woke up by the rubbing of an erection between the globes.

It was way too early to open the eyes, breaking dawn barely lightening up the sky, so Hermione snuggled against the strong body behind her, who was rubbing himself on her; a hand trailing higher through her belly towards her breasts, under her nighty.

She felt the arm under the pillow she used, move to pull her closer, his hot breath on her neck.

The hand kneaded her flesh, pinching and tweaking the nipple until it pebbled under his fingers. Hermione pushed her breast deeper into his hand.

His palms changed places, and the upper arm travelled down to cup her, rubbing a finger between the nether lips through her knickers. She moaned, offering her neck to be devoured.

The sensations he woke within her stronger than her resolve to keep their first night neatly intact. Her determination melted severely when said finger found its way behind the crotch and spread the wetness before it concentrated on the clit, aided by a second equally wet digit. Nothing could stop her hips of humping against his bulge, nor the little noises leaving her parted lips while his tongue drew trails between earlobe and her throat.

Hermione turned half towards him, hungry for his mouth. Lips clashed, tongues twirled around, teeth nibbled.

"My head is pounding like hell, woman, but I…"

"We should stop then-"

He fingered her deep and determined, "Should we? Don't you want me to finish my little job here?" Hermione arched in response, moan stoking in her throat, "Your cavern is so soft, and hot, so sleek with wetness. My cock is begging for entrance, can you imagine my hard rod spreading your walls, to accommodate me in the best way?"

The fingers were insistent in their resolve to break her control, gliding effortlessly at an increasing pace. The squelching sounds rising to the surface told them both how much she was enjoying the attention. "You're making it very difficult for me to not lower my trunks and possess you in one thrust."

Her hand cupped him through the fabric, pumping in an erratic rhythm, squeezing at the pace of those shivers down her spine. "Will you finish me off as I'll make you cum on my fingers?"

A husky  _yes_  escaped her throat, speaking more coherent words was basically impossible. His hand demonstrated the pace his cock needed, before returning to their own task, fingers curling inside, while the palm rubbed her nub with pressure. Hermione complied, though keeping it a steady beat was a darn difficult job.

The hand on her breast pinched hard on the nipple before a hot mouth bit and sucked like a hungry man. He growled as the maddening pace of her hand on his groin hardened him even more than he already was. "Hermione, you're driving me crazy… love… fuck…"

She fumbled with her knickers. Fingers weren't enough anymore, she wanted to be consumed by him. The horny thoughts of a few hours ago returned in full force. Taking control, she pushed him onto his back, pulled his trunks down his waist, straddled him and sank her needy pussy onto his dick, mewling from the feeling of being stretched.

"Ah, fuck... love… you feel so perfect." He possessed her mouth, grunting at every rise of her hips, hands helping her keep up the pace. Hermione's own moans muffled between his lips, as she increased the rhythm to seek release.

Draco pushed her up, cascading the waterfall of curls around her upper body before cupping both tits and worshipping them as two precious possessions. Moans mixed with the sound of slapping flesh and male grunts.

The edge was near. So close, that Hermione took one of his hands and lead him towards the apex pushing his thumb where she needed him to be, after which she sought support on his chest for her stretched arms to rut harder onto his cock. He filled her to the brim, the perfect piece of her puzzle.

Draco dragged her by the neck and slammed his lips onto hers, teeth clashing before the mouths shaped around each other, "Fuck me, love. Cum over my cock, I'm going to fill your womb with my spunk, woman. You are mine… Yes, love... fuck... that's it…" He pushed her harder on him, feeling the coil in his own belly burning with desire to explode. Increasing the pressure of his thumb on her nub, he bit on an offered nipple and felt her snap gloriously over his dick, walls fluttering and milking him wantonly.

The ripples of her orgasm broke through his own control, and he slammed her hips against him, jerking inside her at his peak. A guttural growl rose from his throat. He knew she could be passionate, but it overtook his senses to feel her explode without restraints around his cock. "Fuck, woman… I… I…" His brain refused to cooperate, fighting the beating sensation on the back of his head, and the overwhelming feeling of the powerful orgasm he just experienced.

Unable to speak, he snaked his arms around her, keeping her grounded on top of him, even when he felt his member soften and abandon its warm cocoon. Thumb rubbing circles on her shoulder blade.

Taking control of his breath was a difficult hurdle, for her just as much, if he went by the hot puffs of air against his chest. But her breathing evened faster, and she rose her head to watch him closely. Eyelashes batting sleepy in search of his gaze, "I guess I broke my rule to wait."

"You will not hear me complain, love. But I could use one of those white pills you gave me. I feel the knocking increasing again in the back of my head." He felt a wave of cold air when she got up to pick a new dose of painkiller medicine. Grateful, he accepted it, catching her hand to pull her once again on top of him.

"Do you remember anything you said yesterday night?"

"Shards…" His mouth curled halfway.

"Do you remember telling the whole world how perfect my titties are? How do you love to nibble on them? Ginny and Daphne had a blast…"

"I don't hear any lies, your tits are my third favourite body part. Those two will keep it shut if it was Blaise however… don't be mean, woman… I was drunk, and it destroyed my filter. I would never say a thing like it in a public place. Think about it, instead, yes and often." He fended off a swat on his shoulder.

"I'm going to snuggle a little longer, someone exhausted me, and it's still dark outside." She made herself comfortable on his chest once more, too lazy to put anything other than her knickers back on. "Third eh? Which is number one and two?"

"Number two is definitely your pussy. I knew it was going to fit my cock perfectly and it tastes sublime. The undisputable number one? A status-quo. Your brain and heart. How you can be forgiving and sassy, with exceptional intelligence." He flipped them to nestle his head between her breasts, accio'ing the wand to scourgify his body before snuggling within her cradling arms. "Do we need a contraceptive charm? I want my son to grow in your womb, but it's a tad too early for babies. I have plans for both of us."

She smiled lazily, "No, I'm on the potion. What plans?" Sleep was taking over her senses, but Hermione wanted her answer first.

Draco felt lulled by her heartbeat against his ear, "Travel the world with you. Go with you to operas and concerts, give you all you deserve before a baby limits our life for a while." That last surprised her, and he elaborated, "I was raised by a house elf. My mother loves me I know it; my father and I aren't in a good place right now. But often were the times that I was left behind, often were the times when my playmate was an elf. Society life had a priority, I don't want to give that to my children. I want them to consider me their best friend because I'll be there at every step."

She knew the pureblood way of child-raising stood in heavy contrast to the way she had been raised, but to hear him say what he missed in his childhood stabbed her heart as much as it warmed it. He wanted to be a dad, not only a father. "No nanny?"

"Only assisting for those moments we can't avoid, or when I want to take you somewhere, you know? Not for a daily routine." His gaze sought hers, "Our children will not be fashion accessories, but our greatest wealth." He kissed her intensely, "When it's time. First, I want us to enjoy the perks of being free to go and travel where we want. Go to Paris, New York… you name it."

"Musicals on Broadway? Visit the greatest libraries on earth? Or the Egyptian Pyramids?"

"What's the dream wedding in your mind?"

"Small, just with our most tight group of friends, nothing for the society newspapers."

"Our friends, my mother, your parents?"

"If you don't mind, I would like to invite the Weasley's, my parents will not be there as you know…" A shaky breath left her lips, "As I told you a few weeks ago, they are living a new life in Australia, completely oblivious to the fact they have a daughter here. I had to protect them from the Death Eaters, and, when I do something, I do it thoroughly, too thoroughly in their case. It can't be reversed." The lump in her throat didn't diminish, no matter how long it was now.

"Are you sure? We have access to the best mind healers in the world, love. Resources enough, the cos-"

"Kingsley and Minerva contacted all of them, for me. It can't be reversed without damaging their brains. My consolation is that they live happy lives, down under." His hand caressed her face, apologetically.

"I'm so sorry… what I did to you."

"You didn't do a thing, this isn't your fault. Not all the sins of Egypt are yours to blame. Molly and Arthur are the closest things I have to parents, at the moment." The pale thumb dried the escaping tear, wishing it could erase the pain as well.

"Do you want to visit them too?"

"Better not, I don't do well when I watch them knowing they don't recognise me." Hermione let a deep sigh escape her lips, "What is your dream wedding?"

"The biggest, most decadent party, full of photographers, one and all glamorous."

"I fear you'll have to find another woman to marry, then. I'm fed up with the spotlight."

"You daft woman, you really buy every piece of crap I sell don't you?"

"I can't trust your word then?"

"I was joking, woman. Hermione, what good woulda super public wedding do? Allow everyone to have their opinion about the catering? What your dress looks like? In my case, what a lucky bastard I am to gain your graces, as I'm a fucking former-Death Eater? Wondering if I might have Imperio'ed you? I'll pass, thank you. If not for my mother, I would elope with you. Skip all the must-be and focus on what matters, connecting my life to yours."

"Are you so certain I'll say yes?"

"I just fucked you into the mattress, witch!"

"You're not the first wizard I shagged. You know what they say when you feel an itch, scra-" Her mouth was silenced by a tongue, while pale fingers did short work of her knickers and his trunks, a hard member filling her to the brim once again.

"I'm not your first, but I'll be your only one from now on. Don't repeat those words." He thrust hard, underlining his statement, "Or I'll spank your nice behind until it shows the colours of your bloody House."

Answering back was impossible, as his tongue fucked her mouth just as his cock was taking her pussy. Leaving them afterwards out of breath and satisfied to the bone. His threat floating in the air, as a game for the next time.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part one of the long-waited pageant... Many thanks go to my dear Magzillasaurus and her giggles...

**Chapter Twenty-One**

The last few days, the girls had decided to avoid their wizards and concentrate on their gig, studying with utmost interest the video Hermione managed to find from last years Muggle event. Pansy and Daphne perfected walking in heels, being the ones to teach Hermione and Ginny how to wiggle their hips in stilettos. Luna watched and shrugged, she wasn't bothering with shoes for the pageant.

"Do we have our acts ready?" Pansy was the drill sergeant on duty.

"Yes!" All voices in unison.

"Is there something we need to cover?"

"No!"

"Let's go and eat some ice cream." Again nothing but agreeing voices. The girls had it all covered.

-oOo-

The men cornered Harry, who succeeded into obtaining a copy of the Mr United States pageant and the group spent a day playing the video at Grimmauld Place, with beer and some meat on the barbeque. This time the snakes paid attention to the cooking procedure, deciding to add this muggle tradition to their newfound habits. Those already contained muggle drinks, bowling and pizza.

Blaise flexed his abs, annoying the bullocks off Theo and Draco. The wizards were content with their bodies unless their friend paraded a pair of pecs and abs more defined than theirs. Even Harry, who had no issues, felt a tingle of self-awareness.

"Brother, stop showing off, we aren't closeted wizards who enjoy male attributes." Theo bit off, feeling himself the thinnest of the group. Draco might not be so defined, but he wasn't far off.

"Beauty should be savoured."

"You are so full of shite." Draco threw him a napkin ball, "What's your plan? To snag all the witches from under our noses?"

"Feeling threatened Malfoy-dear?" Blaise flexed his bicep once again, "Could I seduce your bookworm with a fascinating love for lingerie?" He sipped from his beer bottle, "Tell me, have you already checked out the contents of a certain drawer?"

"Don't you have a witch to concentrate on?"

"My girl needs to go with your woman for a few extra lessons… Her taste could use an upgrade."

If looks could kill, Blaise would be bleeding, "Zabs, my friend, zip it."

The Slytherin understood the silent threat. The back and forth didn't go lost on Harry either, who enjoyed watching how protective Draco was of Hermione. The initial doubts he used to have - old habits die hard - had disappeared for a while now. Instead, he couldn't think of a better partner for his best friend slash sister, than a powerful wizard like the blond.

Plus, now the man had ditched some of his arrogance and showed the real personality behind the mask, Harry had to admit to appreciating Draco's company.  _What if he had accepted the friendship all those years ago? Would their school time have been different?_

Ron bit his lip, "Harry, what we saw earlier on your telly, do we have to do it too?"

"Which part?"

"I mean, parading in our underwear?"

Blaise broke into laughter, "Are you afraid of showing your goodies to your woman?" He couldn't resist flexing his muscles once more, "Imagine all the present witches, drooling over your body."

"But, do we have to do it in our underwear?"

Harry shrugged, "It's one time only, consider it for fun. Honestly, the guilty guy for this pageant shit seems to be the bodybuilder right here, if I'm not mistaken."

Ron nodded, pointing at the wizard in question, "Yes, he wanted to admire the goodies… kept pushing for it." Said man ducked from the killing glares, Draco's was probably the most venomous.

"Wait a minute, we'll be parading nearly naked, our women will do the same because you wanted to oggle them for free?" Draco's low voice was menacing.

"Brother, you'll thank me for it."

A certain wand appeared, "Oh yes, I will…"

Harry enjoyed hearing a yelp, not even contemplating an intervention. Personally, he could see the fun, and he knew from Ginny that the girls wouldn't be showing off anything beyond a bathing suit. Harry saw those all the time when they went to the beach anyway, "Malfoy, don't worry. Your girl's virtue won't be sacrificed."

"Doesn't it bother you, all those wizards drooling over your woman?"

"Listen, when she and I go to the beach, it's the same effect. They drool, but I'm the one who brings her home." He gave the blond a half smile, "Relax."

"Her assets are mine."

"We will not see anything beyond the most necessary." Harry refrained from explaining how much he had seen during the Horcruxes-hunt, considering it a dangerous field.

Theo summed up, "Basically, we'll be parading in a suit, in our underwear and have to act something out."

"Which can be flexing your muscles, singing, reciting a poem…"

"Play an instrument?" Draco inquired. He didn't sing, reciting poems was something for a Hufflepuff and by the looks for Theo, and flexing the muscles well, he knew who was going for that already. Competing against the number one stud from Slytherin - puh - was a stupid move.

"Or tell jokes?" Ron hadn't relaxed for a bit, the last thing he wanted was to embarrass Pansy.

Harry reasoned, "From the way I see it, between us I mean… you all have chosen your partner. It would surprise me if your original number didn't match your girl's choice. Have fun, I don't think we'll be repeating this pageant ever."

-oOo-

The cooking area had been transfigured into an elegant theatre room with comfortable seating, a stage and adjusted lightning. The managing group had done their job thoroughly based on a few Muggle pictures out of the original version, provided by Hermione.

Ginny and Pansy had secured the best centre seats, not opposed to using some hexes to accomplish their intent. A few women sought help in Hermione against  _the unnecessary violence_  but found none.

George appeared on stage, as the host of the day. "Ladies! This is the much-anticipated event of the year, the very first Wizard Pageant in British Wizarding History."

From the backstage, someone added, "And the very last too." It wasn't clear if there were more booing than cheering at that statement. Hermione guessed a tie.

"Let me not keep you ladies waiting. Let's hear it for our brave gentlemen in their nicest suits! Give them a round of applause!"

The room exploded into a burst of cheers and screaming, some girls forgoing their decorum and going extreme on the drama. The girl-gang applauded visibly when they spotted their boys, Harry second to a confident Blaise who flashed the largest Colgate smile, followed by a smirking Draco and two uneasy wizards, Ron and Theo.

It looked rehearsed as they all stood next to each other, the centre of attention oh so unfamiliar.

Pansy screeched, "Ron, love, you're the cutest."

Hermione hid her face behind her hand, shaking her head. Ron wasn't ugly, but Pansy shouldn't exaggerate either. The result was a flushed wizard who wished he could disappear. Even Ginny rolled her eyes, at the display.

Hermione let her eyes roam over the row of wizards, concluding to herself that Draco stood out. There were a few cute boys between, but none held a candle to Draco's masculine appearance. Dressed in an expensive black suit, white shirt and a perfect Windsor black tie around the neck, he stood poised, with hands in his pockets. Staring at her.

She bit in her nail. They hadn't seen each other for days, and she was actually nervous about how the night was going to end. Tonight, they would choose one another officially, not that there was doubt. He was the one she wanted at her side. No questions asked.

A loud bang broke her train of thoughts, as a wizard band claimed the stage while the men prepared for the next part. It was a favourite song that bellowed through the speakers, and the majority was singing along, some witches completely off-tune.

When the second act died down, George took the stage wiggling his brows, "Ladies, I hope you have a fan in your hands, this place is getting hotter by the minute. Welcome our wizards to the stage!" Hell broke loose. Many jumped up and down their seats, screaming and waving wildly with their arms as if Merlin himself had appeared on stage.

A few very confident men, Blaise for instance, ate up the attention and gave all the women a run for their money, flexing his impressive torso and sturdy legs. Hermione had to admit that he looked like man-candy indeed. Cormac and some unknown blokes copied his stance and showed off - not always earned - to bask in the madness going on among the audience.  _Who knew witches could behave like muggle women?_

Others, like Draco and Harry, took it all with a grain of salt, did the runway at ease winking at their girls and joined the row shrugging at the display.

Then you had Theo, Ron, even Neville and several others who wished there was a hole to hide in. Slouched, they almost ran over the catwalk to get it over with and put their clothes back on. Luna kept sending kisses towards her wizard while Pansy won the contest of the loudest cheering witch, by far.

It was beyond madness. Nothing could have prepared Hermione for this kind of display, it was as if none of these witches had ever seen a man this undressed before. She lost count on the times she saw Ginny and Daphne cover their faces in disgust, and burst in a peal of laughter to see the blonde pull Pansy down to placate her.

The stage was finally cleared, and it took two songs before the show continued with its last act.

The girls had to sit out through a few demonstrations before the first of their gang came up.

Theo back in his black suit.

He cleared a few times his throat, before taking a roll of parchment out of his vest pocket. With a steady voice, he declaimed a romantic poem Hermione recognised from Lord Byron.

"She walks in beauty, like the night  
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;  
And all that's best of dark and bright  
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;  
Thus mellowed to that tender light  
Which heaven to gaudy day denies..."

The otherwise calm wizard managed to bring a certain peace to the audience, the majority blinking a tear away after the heartfelt words. Luna had no shame at drying her cheeks openly, touched by his voice. The deafening applause was earned, in Hermione's eyes.

Even his Slytherin girls beamed proudly.

After a few more wizards, Harry claimed the stage, playing a catchy tune on his guitar. The self-written lyrics made no sense, sending all girls into fits of laughter. Ginny knew this was going to happen, if Hermione guessed right because instead of roaring she shook her head countless times.

Under sloppy applause, some women had trouble calming down their hysterical giggling, Harry evacuated the stage to make room for a very ashamed Ron. Being in the spotlights really freaked him out and his first joke missed its punch line, "Parallels have much in common. It's a shame they'll never meet…"

But after his third, he got the hang of it, and all the girls ate from his hand. Entirely in character, he stated, "My mother once accused me of being immature. I told her to get out of my fort." Hermione finally recognised her friend, the wizard who loved to bring joy to a group. His next one forced her to cross her legs and avoid a certain accident. "I threw a boomerang a few years ago, I now live in constant fear…" They barely recovered from the last one, as he fired his newest, "Do you know why healer-nurses use a red quill? In case they need to draw blood!"

In the end, Ron received a standing ovation from the entire audience, often still with tears of laughter in their eyes. It had been a while since Ginny and Hermione saw him smile so wide. It was glorious.

A few acts later, a black wizard set down a familiar CD-player, took a stand and pressed the button with a wandless move.

"I'm too sexy for my love..."

Hermione was going to drill him until she found out where he learned about  _Right said Fred's_ hit, but not even she could stay still in her chair.

The man knew how to dance to the catchy beat, taking his white shirt off in time to " _I'm too sexy for my shirt,_ " wiggling his hips and flexing his abs in tune, sending kisses into the air with a flair, that even Hermione had to admit, meant that he totally deserved his title.

Daphne let it all befall her in a mix of awe and embarrassment. "Daph, you're a lucky girl… that's chocolate man-candy." The blonde witch flushed harder.

Either way, he squatted, wiggled, flexed, used the whole podium and performed as an artist who did nothing else all day. Bowing at the end of the song, only clothed in his black trunks. His chest rose and fell with quick breaths but seemed to puff in pride as well. It was a sight to behold.

The stage darkened after Blaise's departure, a black grand piano appeared, steps echoed in the silent room.

At first, only the notes rose in the air, no one recognising the pianist as he stood in the dark.

A romantic piano ballad Hermione recognised as a love theme from Romeo and Julia, filled the room and made everyone silent. It was beautiful and delicate in its performance, played by someone who knew how to let his fingers fly over the keys, right hand taking the upper hand while the left played the accords softly in the background.

After a half minute, a lit candle appeared above the majestic instrument, and Hermione gasped, recognising the pale blond hair. Draco never looked up, only straight forward into the darkness bouncing at the beat, playing the piece obviously by heart. His fingers moved smoothly, a few times almost ghosting over the white or black keys. She closed her eyes to let the notes take her along, to open them again and stare at the incredible man. A wizard full of surprises.

The last note waved over the quiet room for a few seconds.

Applause broke, as the wizard got up out of his chair and bowed to accept the honour. Eyes only focused on his witch, who smiled softly behind the few trembling fingers she held against her lips.

The love story itself was a tragic one, but the song signified a tribute to love; arrows pierced through Hermione's heart as she acknowledged her feelings for this blond Adonis. No reason to deny them anymore nor to doubt his, in return.

A hand dried the escaping tears.

The embracing arms of Ginny offering her comfort, went by, unnoticed.

Because she longed.

After him.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always immensely grateful for Magzillasaurus help.

##  Chapter Twenty-Two

 

A small break was scheduled to empty the room. The witches waited in the Atrium, until the return of their wizards coming from backstage, with their bags in hand. Hermione stretched out her neck anxiously. Many were the heads she recognised, but no trace of the one she sought.

 

Until far in the back, a flash of pale hair. A smiling face talking to his best friends, reviewing their experience. It was all she needed.

 

Seeking a way between laughing people, she ran. The few who were unfortunate to cross her path, received a rough shove. He saw her coming, dumped his cargo on the floor and opened his arms. 

 

Draco chuckled huskily. Hermione jumped into him, legs snaking around his hips, her face hiding in the crease of his neck.

 

“Hey, love.” A quick glance told him his company vacated the room, probably in search of their own counterparts. He found a secluded corner and carried her until both were out of sight. “Are you crying?”

 

“It was so beautiful.” Hermione hung to him, the emotions closing up her throat. Stroking his hair, she faced him, eyes red-rimmed, “You played so beautifully, it pierced right through my heart. Romeo and Juliet. Are we them?”

 

“No.” He pushed her into a wall for better leverage. His hands were itching to touch her face, “We’re not doomed, we are getting our happy ending. Unless you fell for Blaise’s charms.”

 

“Oh yes, all those pecs and abs… you’re a moron sometimes.” She laughed between her tears, swatting his shoulder.

 

Draco covered her mouth with his, kissing her intensely. Releasing her bottom lip with a plop, he spoke into her ear, "What am I going to see, love? Will you sing?"

 

“I’m not telling you.” Hermione let her legs slid down, but he kept her sandwiched between his body and the wall, “You’ll have to wait.”

 

He looked down on her, gleefully, “If there’s blood tonight…”

 

“Behave or else...”

 

“Or else what?”

 

"I'll satisfy myself, and you're not allowed to touch," She tilted her head with pouty lips.

 

Grunting, he grabbed her neck and devoured her mouth, “Woman!” He let her go with a smack, grasped her hand and pulled her behind him, picking up halfway the discarded bag.

 

They met with the gang, who eyed them curiously but refrained from comment.

 

“Blaise Zabini, where did you find that song?”

 

“It’s your fault.” He gave her a once-over full of arrogance.

 

“That’s nice coming from you. I didn’t play that hit.”

 

"Your Potter showed us your MTV channel, and one of the clips was from those three blokes. A little digging and voila! I made all the knickers go wet…"

 

“Merlin, hear hear!” Several witches gave him the look, “See the peacock puff!” Ginny huffed, rolling her eyes.

 

“My knickers are dry as the Savannah,” Pansy added her two knuts. “Though I’m lying. I might have had an accident with one of my Ron’s jokes…”

 

"Who didn't? Ginny, your brother can be funny…" Just like that, Blaise was out of the spotlight, and all the eulogies went to the ginger who blushed once more. Daphne was planning on having a chat with her wizard. This rooster behaviour riled her up to no end...

 

The bell in the background warned the witches it was time. A kiss was shared except for Daphne, leaving Blaise shrunk back.

 

Draco swatted him in the shoulder, “Come on, mate. Let’s find a good place to watch.”

 

Blaise rose an arm and whimpered.

 

“Ah, they are just messing with you. You can’t help yourself, can you?” Draco pushed the man forward who kept pointing and whining like a toddler. “If you taunt them, you gotta accept a blow in return. I’m glad that it’s not me for once.” 

 

-oOo-

 

The menacing Malfoy glare made an appearance to shoo a few wizards away. They were seated at almost precisely in the same row as the girls previously.

 

“I need a beer.” Harry made himself comfortable, stretching his arms.

 

“What does your girl have planned for her act?”

 

“Show off how well she can fly.” The statement was proudly delivered, glowing for his girl. They had been playing with dates for their marriage, the new law forced them to speed up events. Not that Harry had any doubts about what he wanted.

 

“She’s an amazing chaser.” 

 

It must be the first time that Draco complimented a Weasley,  _ times were changing _ , thought Harry once again. “Thanks, Malfoy. That she is.”

 

“I wonder what the women will do, apart from Ginny.”

 

Theo spilt the beans, “Luna is singing.”

 

“Hermione refused to tell.”

 

Ron shook his head in warning, “That is never a good sign.” 

 

Harry agreed, chuckling, “What about Pansy?”

 

“Ha, she played with a few options and told me she was going to decide on the spot. Based on the mood of the day.”

 

“Let us hope she doesn’t sing.”

 

Ron refrained from comment. Not that he disagreed.

 

Lights dimmed. 

 

George made an appearance, “Gentlemen, I hope you are sitting comfortably because the temperature in this theatre is going to rise a few degrees. Raise your hands and give your witches the applause they deserve!”

 

A swing of his arm gave the start to a parade of women in lovely gowns.

 

Both Ginny and Daphne had chosen a mid-leg, bodycon dress, one as fiery red as her hair, uneasy on the high heels; the other in a nude colour that emphasised her natural beauty, walking on the stilettos as if they were slippers.

 

Luna went all bohemian style, forgoing shoes at all, the linen fabric flying as two added wings behind her, forcing Hermione to halt and allow more room between them.

 

The brunette dressed as Pansy in a full-length gown. Up to there the similarities.

 

Where the dark-haired witch wrapped her curves in a mermaid dress that let nothing to the imagination - bosom almost spilling through the decollete; the Gryffindor opted for an elegant illusion high neckline, dark navy sleeveless chiffon dress full of sparkling sequins. 

 

The colour purposely was chosen to please the wizard, who gaped at her appearance.

 

An elegant bow followed, once all the women were lined up to receive the earned applause.

 

"Didn't I tell you, mates? The temperature is rising, and it's not yet done. They will all return in a few minutes…" George fumbled with his collar, "I need water!"

 

Two songs later from the previous band and the heart of every wizard was beating in their throats.

 

One by one, the women showed up, did a little turn at the middle and joined the row. Foremostly dressed in a bathing suit, a few even with a leg, like Daphne. She stood her ground, but when Ginny looked closer, the witch was trembling like a leaf.

 

“Daph, relax, it’s almost over.”

 

“I’m not used to this.”

 

“None of us is, but try to ignore the strangers. Focus on your guy. Teach him a lesson also. He needs to be taken down a notch or two.”

 

“I know…”

 

A general male gasp rose in the air. Pansy took the stage in a red vintage two-piece that fit her like a glove.

 

“I wish I had her confidence.” It came out as a whimper.

 

“Daph, be yourself. We love you the way you are!”

 

Pansy glowed, “Wow, that feels nice.”

 

“Hey, Pans. Not all of us owns the stage like you do…”

 

“Gin-girl, what the hell are you talking about?” The light jerk, “Hey, Daph, your wizard is drooling over you. Pay attention.”

 

“He’s probably has a boner from watching you, Pansy. Not me.”

 

“Bullocks. Huge nonsense, girl.”

 

Their attention was demanded by the raising howls and loud applause. All heads turned to the right and saw an ultimately confident witch appear. Black stilettos and a one-piece that almost looked like a bikini, the only connecting spot on the belly with a golden ring.

 

It revealed a narrow waist, perfect bosom and sensual hips. The back was bare except at chest height and the arse though the majority of the globes was uncovered, by the Brazilian fitting.

 

*Draco*

 

He cleared his throat. Multiple times. There was the secret bathing suit she bought a few weeks ago. He mended his thoughts, _She chose, I bought._ _Was that even a swimsuit? Fuck…_

 

“Yo, mate. Your witch…” Blaise voiced the overall opinion.

 

“Zip it, not a word.”

 

Theo whispered, “Draco, she’s… forgive me.” He ran a hand over his face.

 

“Damn it… I know!” The blond was sweating, tempted to raise a glamour charm and hide the sexy sight from all other male eyes.

 

Harry chuckled, “You’re the one who takes her home. Not these horny wolves…”

 

Draco looked horrified, “Is this supposed to relax me? Tell me who doesn’t have a boner right now?”

 

“Me.” Harry stretched once more, “She’s my sister, Malfoy. I knew how she looked under those robes, you can’t share a tent and not see a thing or two.” He shrugged, “It doesn’t affect me, but makes me proud you know?”

 

The blond whined. By then it was a few other witches turn, but he couldn’t divert his gaze from the sexy vixen on the stage, “What are you saying?”

 

“This whole parading thing is outside her comfort zone. The woman I know never paraded her assets before. Look at her. She’s as confident as your ex-girlfriend next to her. Beaming.”

 

“Still don’t get it.”

 

“She’s doing this for you.” Harry swat him in the shoulder, probably harder than needed, “These acts are all for you.”

 

“We’ll have to have a chat then. I don’t want her parading her assets before other men. She’s mine.”

 

“Put a ring on it.”

 

"Potter, that's the plan!" He joined the public applause on automatic pilot, deep in thoughts. That little swim piece was affecting his system, and he imagined already a few occasions where he would do a thing or two. Probably not even wasting time on peeling it off her body. It barely covered skin anyway…

 

-oOo-

 

“Girl, how you gained your prude title is a mystery to me.” Pansy shook her head. No matter how you looked at it, the male attention had been divided between the two.

 

Daphne agreed, “Between the two of you, I think only the eunuchs were safe.” She ran to her dressing corner, to change into something less revealing.  _ Merlin, did she hate this pageant _ .

 

Hermione smirked, thinking about how Draco flushed. His grey gaze almost burned into her skin. Her upcoming act was surely putting him on fire, as it was her intention from the start. Tease the passionate lover he was, the generous man. Though, after her little gig, the generous might have to make room for intense.  _ Suits me just fine… _

 

-oOo-

 

Luna gave the kickstart of the acting part.

 

Back in her bohemian dress, her Celtic lyrics gave her something of angelic air. Fragile but irresistibly beautiful. Pure.

Accompanied by gentle dance moves, Luna entranced Theo and also charmed Harry who appreciated the oddity she often exuded. 

 

Blaise waved a hand before the wizard’s face but chuckled when the offending gesture was shoved rudely away. He had to give it to the witch. Willing or not, Luna had the talent to melt your heart and to increase the urge for protection. She might act strange, but hell if someone would hurt her.

 

They had to sit out a few more acts, some hurting the eardrums and begging for some more of Luna's voice instead before another of their gang appeared.

 

Literally appear, in the sky. 

 

Doing audacious movements on her broom, proving to those who still doubted, that Ginny Weasley was a hell of a flyer. A few of those drills drew a gasp from the audience, but her wizard couldn’t grin wider. Harry puff up with pride like a peacock. This was his girl, alright.

 

Ginny left the room after a quick peck on the lips, hanging upside down on her broom.

 

Pansy took the stage. Her mid-length dress with a full skirt didn't impede her ability to dance an excellent ballet choreography. But the witch wanted to make from her act a display of her multiple artistic talents, and she started to sing.

 

It should have been a musical piece, but if there was one thing Pansy didn’t succeed in, it was singing on key. It hurt several ears to listen to the torture - now understanding why the baby doll was crying so loud in the end. Not that many had the guts to laugh the witch out, only the few who didn’t know how merciless she could lash out.

 

The snakes, for instance, muted the sound for protection of their hearing. Giving the advice to Harry and Ron, the latter rejecting it on principle.

 

But their limits were tested when the witch mixed ballet with tap-dancing. Instead of elegance, it looked ridiculous, making Draco wonder,  _ How in heaven’s sake did she think it was the perfect act? _ He was only human, as his friends and after a new silly movement, he cracked, hiding his face behind a hand. As all the other wizards did, except for Ron who sought to keep his features up and show interest.

 

Pansy was under the impression the cheering was supportive. One could be oh so wrong for once… She left the stage, and the entire audience roared, free to release the upheld laughter. 

 

When the quietness returned to the theatre, Daphne showed up. A large spotlight shone upon her, while she took the centre of the stage. She breathed in some courage before giving a sign to start the music.

 

Blowing everyone over with her powerful voice, a hidden talent. Handling high notes as if she was the muggle Celine Dion, she sang about wanting to be free. Free to chose her love, make her own decisions and not to be told how to behave or that something wasn’t deemed of a lady. Freedom and love.

 

-oOo-

 

“Did you know she could sing like this, Pansy?”

 

“Hell, I heard her sometimes in the shower, but nothing like this… She has such a beautiful voice!” The Slytherin witch was heavily impressed. “I won’t let her hide it anymore. If Blaise doesn’t push her into a musical career, I’ll hex his balls.”

 

“We both will, Pansy.” Hermione guessed, however, it wouldn’t be the case. If she assumed it right, Blaise would be the first to give the blonde on the stage the support she needed. The man wasn’t one for the traditional housewife type.

 

-oOo-

 

Every Slytherin in the audience graced their friend with a standing ovation. Theo and Draco whistled, Blaise clapped the loudest. Not that the cheering was limited to the snakes. The majority gave Daphne all the glory she deserved.

 

The blonde breathed quickly, flushing under the appreciation, and sank lightly to her knees in gratitude; following the decorum lessons. She returned to backstage, with a hand on her chest. 

 

A blur of dark hair blinded her, “Daph, you were magnificent, woman! I want to hear you sing all the time. You must become the most famous singer of this generation!” Pansy held her at arm's length. “I’m so fucking proud of you!”

 

A choked ‘okay’ came from behind Pansy’s hair.

 

While the gang talked more praise into Daphne, Hermione left them for her own act, after pecking the blonde on her cheek.

 

It was time to knock out a certain wizard.

 

-oOo-

 

The stage was again enveloped in darkness.

 

A chair found its place in the centre.

 

The music started. 

 

A seductive tune, at a timed beat.

 

A black heel showed, and the light brightened till half shining on a black-clad witch. 

 

Dancing with deliberate moves, stretching arms, or a leg. 

 

Sitting on the chair, legs spread wide. Sliding the feet until the knees met each other. Gliding over the seat until her bum met the floor. Rising up, taking the chair and spinning it, to sit back on the bench, in reverse.

 

Switching between snaking up moves, or a roll of the hips.

 

Around the room, you could hear a pin drop. Only the intakes of breaths. Or clearing of throats.

 

The act ends with the scrapping of a chair, as Hermione drags it backstage. After a last look at a pair of grey eyes.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yesterday I published "Away with the Nargles" but I've mistakenly associated that chapter to the last of Searching. The timeline of that one fits the end of this new part, sorry for my mistake.
> 
> Once again, all the thanks go to Magzillasaurus, my beta partner for this story.

##  Chapter Twenty-Three

 

After a few more acts, the line-up of witches gathered on the stage holding a number in their hands.

 

Hermione grasped Pansy’s hand and dragged the witch to the centre, calling out Padma and Hannah to join them and motioning to the men to come up to the stage. Blaise pushed Ron forward, while Ernie and Michael came from the other end, “The pageant is the last of the several trials we went through in the search for our perfect partner. I want to use the opportunity to thank all my colleagues because, without their help, I wouldn’t have been able to put up this event together.” A round of applause rose, Blaise took the honours, pushing a blushing Ron forward and force the man to bend, as he did.

 

“Also, I want to thank you for the amazing participation, I hope that you have succeeded in finding your perfect match. I, for one, have.” A soft smile lighted up, glancing quickly at her blond wizard. “For those who remained unsuccessful, I advise you to follow the Ministry’s procedure. Otherwise, I congratulate you on your success.”

 

_ This was it _ , she thought.  _ I can’t do more… _

 

-oOo-

 

The majority looked incredibly happy. Some overjoyed with their match, others cautiously smiling, still wary of the outcome.

 

Hermione used the retreat to the backstage as a moment to ponder over the last few weeks. 

 

Pansy and Ginny watched her saunter back, "Are you okay?" Pansy asked, touching her lightly on the shoulder.

 

“Yes, you go on, I need a minute.”

 

“Are you having second thoughts?” 

 

“Absolutely not, I just need to gather my wits…”

 

“You will meet us at the Leaky as planned, right? Celebrate the pageant?”

 

“Yes, definitely.” 

 

-oOo-

 

She sat with her gown folded in her hands, gazing into the distance.

 

The man who used to be her biggest nemesis, the bully teenager who never dismissed an opportunity to emphasise she didn't belong in his world, was nowadays the man that made her life feel complete. For him, she pushed out of her comfort zone to draw his reaction and he never disappointed. 

 

Now, she stood here contemplating the future.

 

If not for this stupid law, the chances that she and Draco would come so far were probably none. Both their minds filled with long-lived prejudices, and pent-up anger. It wasn’t the first time, she envisioned him approaching her to talk and meeting the end of her wand, as she didn’t trust him for a second. Expecting the old arrogant prat to make an appearance and she acting proactively before he could hurt her.

 

Today, she knew the moment she stepped outside, that he would be waiting for her. Arms wide-open to comfort, probably horny as hell after her previous little deliberate act. She knew she would belong between them, her home, caring and protective.

 

This wasn’t a decision made in the moment, but something that had been brewing probably since after their first banter at the Leaky. When he was visibly hurt by her actions concerning those crisps. The way he apologised. At this moment, easily ignoring the jolt of fire she felt when he ate the damn potato.

 

From then on, she couldn’t avoid pressing his buttons. She gave as much as he returned, their bantering driving their friends nuts. Time after time, stirring an unknown feeling inside her. One that grew to respect, care and yes, feel attracted to a very handsome wizard.

 

While Ron had expressed his wish she would become a housewife, back in the days she thought he was the one -  _ Gawd, I was so stupid… _ \- Draco already assumed she would continue to work and even make her way up to the top. Not jealous of her success, but the supportive partner a woman longs to have at her side. She, at least…

 

“Having second thoughts?” Speaking of the devil, who sounded cautious from afar.

 

Her face brightened, while she folded her dress properly and set it away in her totem, “No, just thinking about the journey that got me here.”

 

Her encouraging smile didn’t yet ease his worry. Pansy told him she would come a little later, and the fear she was overthinking them kicked in viciously. He fretted that their history could still get in the way of his happiness, “Are you certain?”

 

"Draco, I don't doubt us. I stopped doing that after probably session number two…" She dropped her cargo to cup his cheek, "I just thought that not in a million years I could have guessed that you, the Slytherin Prince, and me, the Golden Princess would be each other's perfect match." She chuckled, "Imagine that we would have followed Kingsley's way and got matched to each other. The world would have been too small!"

 

“You have a point…” Following her reasoning, he might have burst into flames at such a moment. His eyes never stopped roaming her face, looking for signs of regret. Finding none.

 

“Of course I have a point. I could have drank your blood, a few weeks ago…”

 

“And now?”

 

“I enjoy tasting your other fluids…” One eyebrow rose, suggestively. “Let’s go to the Leaky, stay there long enough to avoid being impolite, and when it’s time we leave the place.”

 

“Where to?”

 

“You choose...”

 

“Hermione…” He kissed her instead, the cube of ice around his heart had melted by now. Not seeing her exit with the other witches, scared the shit out of him. Now, he couldn’t wait to bring her home, “I love you.”

 

“Draco, so do I…”

 

“What?” He gave her a half looped smile.

 

“I love me too…” She giggled, watching his face drop. “You idiot, I love you to the moon and back.” Grabbing him by the back of his head, she kissed him passionately. Making him feel that her words were not in vain. “I have fallen in love with the king of ferrets and gits… With a hell of a sexy body and a warm heart, that tends to be a tad too full of himself.”

 

It was as a heavy burden that fell from his shoulders.

 

He hoisted her up, kissing her non-stop while turning around in circles, “I’m the luckiest bastard in the world…” He swirled once more, her giggles flying into the air, “I love you, Hermione Granger. This pureblood wizard can’t imagine a life without his favourite muggleborn anymore.”

 

-oOo-

 

They arrived at the Leaky, in the middle of a full-swing party. The place was probably exploding from its hinges from the number of people celebrating.

 

Tracey was surrounded by Greg’s arms, Hannah looked adorably up to her Neville while Blaise pat another person’s shoulders congratulating them with their partner, Daphne trying but failing at subduing her wizard - who didn’t let her go for a second.

 

“There’s my man!” The tanned wizard shouted their arrival, “He snatched the Golden Princess!”

 

“Mate, take it down a notch, will you.” Both men hugged as good friends, pats on the shoulder included.

 

Two butterbeers were shoved into Hermione and Draco’s hands. They toasted and sought a way to their friend's table. “Pansy, stop sucking Ronald's life out of him.”

 

"Snog with your witch, Drakey, and leave my Ron and me alone." She returned her attention to the flushed wizard, who looked like a sixteen-year-old with his first girlfriend.

 

Ginny sighed deep, sipping from her own foam drink, “They’ve been at it since we’ve got here. He told her she was the most attractive witch in her swimsuit and then, pff!”

 

"I beg to differ, but there's no accounting for taste." He was reminded about a particular issue he wanted to discuss with his curly haired witch. A few items were from now on, for his two eyes only…

 

“Now what, Harry?”

 

"Now we settle for a date, we tell the Ministry that we have made our choice and they can put their spells where the sun never shines, and we live happily ever after."

 

“You got it easy, Molly already knows about you and Ginny.” Hermione joked, “I still have to meet my in-laws officially.”

 

“My mother only, love. My father’s arse is warming up a bench in the most accommodating Azkaban hotel.” Draco rubbed his nose against the column of her neck. “I’ll write him an owl…”

 

“Does she know already about me?”

 

“I might have mentioned it a time or two, yes.”

 

A plate of chips arrived at their table, Draco snaked one first, stirred it in the ketchup bowl and offered it to her lips, “There’s a love potion in this one, care to try?”

 

“Should I trust a ferret?” She bit his finger eating more than half of the chip. He ate the remains. 

 

In a corner, Theo and Luna were dancing softly to the beat of the background music. He was caressing her as his most prized possession, ignoring the celebrations around them. She was looking up to him, with her most radiant smile. Fingers stroking his short hair.

 

Hermione watched the display of pure fluff.

 

“Are you jealous?”

 

“Of what exactly?”

 

Draco turned her around, snaking her arms to wrap around his neck, copying Luna’s stance, “Do you want me to turn into a Hufflepuff?”

 

“No, but I won’t say no to a display of true romance. I want my fairy tale too…”

 

“Which tale exactly?”

 

“You kidnap me and take me to your penthouse, you feed me something delicious, then you pull me into your bedroom where you undress me and do all those things you’ve promised you would do in your bathtub.” She tipped her head to the side, “I fall asleep in your arms exhausted.”

 

“Is that your ideal fairy tale?”

 

“Almost. Perfect will be if my knight proposes to me in the most romantic way, of course…”

 

“Your knight?” He looked around her, “Where’s the bloke?”

 

"I told him not to come, tonight. He would floor you with a swing of a sword, and I dread  having blood spilt on my clothes." She gave him a cheeky smile.

 

“Is that so???” Draco watched her down his nose, “I do really need to kidnap you, don’t I?”

 

Her giggles sealed the deal.

 

He waved goodbye to Harry and Blaise and apparated them into his penthouse. This sneaky witch needed to be taught a lesson...


	24. The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter of one of my funniest stories to write. I hope you enjoyed the journey as much as I did. Once more, I want to thank my Magzillasaurus, my Maggie, for her amazing beta-job!

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

The biggest flower bouquet she ever saw was the first thing her eyes noticed when they arrived at his penthouse. Red roses, asters, red tulips and jasmines in a bed of green.

"Draco!"

"Jasmine stands for unconditional and eternal love, the tulip tells you about undying, passionate, perfect love. The asters are the talisman of love, and signify trust."

"The red roses symbolise true love. Draco, I'm sure I've got the message."

"I didn't expect otherwise." He smiled when she sniffed the roses, "I cooked for us…"

"Is it still warm?"

"I only need to finish it up..." Draco went ahead, reheating the meatballs in the tomato sauce he prepared last night, while in the other pan salted water boiled like crazy. He measured the spaghetti, "I asked Molly for a little help, but I made it all by myself."

"You asked Molly for the recipe?"

"Well, the most reliable source isn't available, I'm afraid." Soon the room smelled of the Italian seasoning he used, "I asked her also for a better way to time the cooking than your Potter's chicken thing."

"That's the muggle way…" She giggled, recalling the startled jump in the air, "Why?"

"I like cooking, I've learned. I also wanted to surprise you with your favourite dinner, I know you prefer a well-meant gesture over a bombastic present."

"Well-reasoned of you, Draco. Make, however, no mistakes. I can also enjoy jewellery, only not the type-"

"Which sparkles from afar, you prefer the delicate pieces. I'll indulge you with such, love. No worries. Plus, I'm planning on helping you increase your collection of underwear and matching garments. I'm such a fan of your secret pleasure..." Carefully he used an oven mitt to drain the pasta, splitting the portion onto two plates and adding a generous scoop of sauce. As a finishing touch, a few leaves of basil at the top.

He set the plates as a fully-learned waiter on the table, pushing her chair invitingly, "M'lady?"

"Well, thank you." She kissed him for a fleeting moment while sitting down. The slice she cut from the juicy meatball was followed into her mouth with hawkeyes. Someone was anxious to know if it tasted as hoped, going by how he held his cutlery.

Hermione munched with closed eyes. It could not hold a candle to her mothers,  _could they ever?_  Though, she had tasted much worse, "They are divine, Draco. You may cook this more often for me…"

He puffed up like a peacock, the smile rising under her appraisal. The joy was filling him so much that his first cut in the meatball splashed a dollop of tomato sauce on his white shirt. Draco looked down and back up to her, flushing red before breaking into laughter.

"I guess you've just become a Weasley, honeybun,"  _why waste an excellent opportunity to rub it in?_

A  _Scourgify_ didn't do the job, neither did the heavier  _Tergeo_ , "It will be an extra job for Tibby, he'll adore it." He unbuttoned his shirt and threw it mindlessly away.

"How can I enjoy my meal if I'm looking at  _that?"_

"Does it affect you?"

"Of course, it's… it's… ahum… unsanitary." She blurted out the first word that came to mind, despite the fact that it didn't translate her feelings at all.

"Unsanitary?"

"Well...yeah. The naked torso… your chest hair…" Under his scrutinising look, her face reddened, and she coughed. The hunger evaded her and was replaced by something else. Especially when he laid back and rubbed his chest unabashedly.

Draco dipped his finger in the red goody, "Oops now, what did I do?" A trace of red circled his nipple, "Isn't this so gross?" Two fingers repeated the action, the trail now painting the tuft of blond hair at the centre of his chest. "So filthy, yuck."

Hermione ducked under the table to reappear on his side, between the spread knees, "It requires cleaning for sure." Draco pushed back the chair to give her more room, alas the plate was out of reach for more rubbing. She rose to her knees, hands strategically at his thighs, close to the crotch, yet not fully touching.

"Lemme wipe it clean for you." The tongue darted out, licking the tasty liquid. "Hmm… the Italian seasoning is perfectly in balance, I guess you must have tasted quite a lot to perfect the flavours." Her flat tongue moved on to the hairy patch, "Delicious."

Reaching behind her back, Hermione dipped a few fingers in and spread the sauce over his belly, stopping right above the waistband of his trunks. "Oh dear, look at the mess I made. What should I do?"

His abs flexed at the quickening pace of his breath, "What do you suggest?" He watched her from underneath his eyelashes.

"Scourgify will not help. I know another method, a muggle one…"

"I'm open to testing your less known way…" He had to clear his throat to make his words audible.

"It includes leaving a wet trail," putting the words into actions, her mouth followed the creases of his muscled stomach, "Maybe it also requires some more drastic measures, like a bite," she nipped, "A dip in the pit, hmm… the oregano is so in balance…"

"I think you missed a spot."

"You'll have to help me, Draco. I don't see it…"

His hands flew to the button, unhooking it from its confinement followed by the zipper. Her own fingers came to help, shoving the trousers down his hips - he rose the hips to that purpose - repeating the movements for the underwear.

"I'll have to inspect it up-close." Proudly at full mast, his erection begged for attention and was gratified by a flat tongue-swipe. A swirl around the engorged head followed; the member jerking in response along with a hiss that rose over her head.

Hermione knew what she was doing to the man, taking every inch into her mouth painfully slowly, not for once withdrawing her eyes from his face. He exhaled loudly through the parted lips, thunderbolts going straight to his spine. Once more going down to return up again, twice, a third time, until he couldn't hold on.

Grabbing her by the armpits he set her on the table, shoving the plates away. Her short skirt was raised to her waist, the knickers snapped, and a needy cock drove home all the way up to the hilt.

Hands made short work of her shirt, the brassiere removed as quickly and his mouth latched on feasting hungrily, the hips pumping incessantly. Female fingers raked through the blond tresses, pulling. Slender legs hooked behind his back to meet him in his thrusts. Grunts mingled with moans. Names whispered. Promises of ultimate pleasure. Confessions of love.

Leading to that one moment, the explosion. The fireworks behind the eyelids. The temporary blackout of senses due to overload. Caresses followed, foreheads met, breaths blended, smiles appeared. While the heartbeats sought a way to calm down. To beat as one, as long as they were intimately connected.

"Will you become my wife?"

"I want you to be my husband."

"Tomorrow?"

"Your mother will have our skin if we elope."

"It should have been yesterday already." Bellies shook of laughter. "Will you stay tonight?"

"Am I getting the promised back rub?"

"You get to choose the side of the bed."

"Even better."

-oOo-

It was almost midnight when the cold spaghetti with meatballs got reheated and eaten in bed, a kitchen towel protecting the bedsheets.

After the hunger stilled, she curled around him. Sighing deeply of contentment. Hermione was home.

-oOo-

"The wedding of the century" was for the following weeks the front page of every published piece of press, newspapers and magazines alike. When word came out about the Wizarding world's most famous pair and how Narcissa moved heaven and earth to make the event epic on such short notice - Draco gave her two weeks, but clipped her wings severely by including a limit of invitees; peace was wishful thinking.

Not that Hermione and Draco's wedding was the first of a series to follow. It was in fact, the third.

Ginny and Harry organised a celebration of a kind, barbecue magically handled, dance and loads of muggle traditions mixed with the ribbon and other traditional ceremonies.

It was followed by a smaller gathering between Hannah's and Neville's family and their closest friends. Though the gang ensured it wasn't so small nor easily overlooked. A wedding needed some fun and joy, didn't it?

The boys had organised a very special bachelor's party for Neville, while the girls enjoyed an extended wellness weekend, one not only for the bride to be but for all the brides and the newly-wedded wife. It might have included a naughty act, as a goodbye performance before they swore fealty to their husbands.

But as Ginny worded, "We're still allowed to look, right girls?"

"Look yes, touch no."

"Speak for yourself, Hermione. If my hand accidentally lands on a certain part, it wasn't my intention, get it?" Pansy voiced Ginny's opinion. There's a saying about leopard and spots...

Pansy's wedding was another beast. When her parents learned about the identity of the groom, a small war bubbled to life. Pansy put her foot down and gave her folks an ultimatum. Accept Ron as her husband, or she would never set foot inside her birth home. Especially when Molly made a statement about treating her no different than she treated Ginny. George made sure she was teased just the same way, also. Soon the ginger-haired wizard became her second favourite Weasley after the groom.

At the moment, it was Molly who was dealing with a spoiled Mrs. Parkinson, who wanted pompous versus the low-key approach that even Pansy preferred. At this rate, they were planning to elope just to avoid Pansy's mother's nagging.

For Ron, it was all fine with him. A snog session and he was a marshmallow in her hands, happy as he was that her cookies were improving in taste. If the baking was getting better, he had big hopes for the rest of her cooking abilities too… he would take the omelettes and the potato-peeling as his duty with pleasure.

Blaise was getting married to Daphne in his Italian estate a month later, it had taken quite some convincing to get the Greengrass's approval for the location. Astoria complained about the venue of her own celebration, on the grounds of her ancestral house. It wasn't romantic enough, she said, much to Daphne's pleasure.

Luna and Theo were going full Pagan for their own wedding. Bohemian style was the dress code - Draco mumbled about that detail, but Hermione told him he should feel happy that Theo diverted a naked celebration completely, Luna's first choice.

The groom was smitten with his bride, but showing his naked arse to an army of friends was just one step too far. Luna conceded when he promised to rejoice in their first night under the moonlight - out of sight, for all intents and purposes.

-oOo-

The gazebo on the grounds of the Manor was tastefully decorated with all the types of white flowers that symbolise love. Violins played softly in the background. The small group of people - to Narcissa's standards sixty people was a small gathering, indeed - waited patiently for the bride to make her appearance.

In the meantime, they enjoyed seeing the groom fidget impatiently at the altar. Kingsley stood proudly behind him, urging him to calm down.

"What if she rethinks?"

"She won't, Draco. Calm your nerves. Do you want me to ask for a draught of peace?"

"I don't need potions. But what if she decides to blow it off?"

"Where's your Slytherin side, my boy?"

"It's turned off."

A collective gasp drew the attention of both men, "See I was right, Draco?"

The answer went lost in the wind.

All that mattered was the beautiful woman, coming down the aisle at the arm of father Weasley, who confessed earlier that he felt as if he was giving away his second daughter. He might have patted Draco on the back a little too fatherly also, issuing the usual warning he gave Harry a week or so before. Treat her right or deal with his wrath, and Molly's!

Her toothy smile had the same effect as the suggested potion. In a heartbeat, he lost all his fears and accepted her hand after the obligatory handshake. In her eyes lay the knowledge that she knew exactly what had been twisting his knickers in a knot. In her smile the promise. She would never walk away unless he gave her the reason to.

Her blind date brought them together. He made her stay. A future lay ahead, full of options and possibilities. For them to face it together.

Hermione Malfoy did have a ring to it.

One he loved to hear.

The end.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope to see you all again, on another story of mine.


End file.
